


It's Not Polite To Eavesdrop

by EiriTheBear



Category: NU'EST, PRISTIN (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, But Verkwan is pure, Developing Relationship, Era: End of BoomBoom to Don't Wanna Cry, Everyone Can See It Trope, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Josh and Boo Gay Fun Times, Joshua Hong is a BAMF, Light Angst, M/M, Pledis Is A Gay Company, References To Kinky Sex, S.Coups needs jesus, Slow Burn, SupportiveNotBoyfriendButGettingThere!Vernon, Telepathic!Seungkwan, minor ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-02 22:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 56,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10953594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EiriTheBear/pseuds/EiriTheBear
Summary: In which Boo Seungkwan gains the uncanny ability to read minds and Seungkwan has to juggle between being an idol and a telepath, uncovering the secrets behind Pledis Entertainment's recent rise as one of South Korea's most prominent idol agencies.--"I know you're no expert on the matter, but I figured, since you're half-American, maybe on the liberal side--I'm not entirely sure--that you would know what to do when you find out that one of your friends is gay."Hansol stares at him, then blinks."What?"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There isn't a lot of VerKwan out there so I thought about starting something stupid.

"Listen, Vernonie," Seungkwan says, shortly after finding Hansol inside the café across the company building. He's writing, Seungkwan notes, seeing as Hansol's settled into a comfortable position away from the rest of the customers, warming his hands with a steaming mug of milk and poring over rap verses. Hansol's gaze flits from a leather-bound notebook to Seungkwan, eyes squinting in confusion.

"I know you're no expert on the matter, but I figured, since you're half-American, maybe on the liberal side--I'm not entirely sure--that you would know what to do when you find out that one of your friends is gay."

Hansol stares at him, then blinks.

"What?"

There's that usual dumb look on Hansol's face when he doesn't understand what's going on, and Seungkwan sighs as he takes the opposite seat, his thoughts reeling. Explaining further would mean revealing how he got the information in the first place, and he seriously doubts that Hansol is open-minded enough to accept telepathy as an explanation.

"Just answer the question," he says dismissively, ignoring the fact that he didn't exactly phrase his query in question form. He cranes his head back and tries to catch the eyes of a waiter. He wants his own hot drink, because it's freezing and something warm might soothe the persistent throbbing in his head.

Hansol doesn't respond, staring at him seriously. Seungkwan's not sure why he's taking so long to respond--it's not like it's a difficult question to answer.

Then again, Hansol might not have the answer he's looking for. For one, Hansol's a prude, and would sooner be sexually-attracted to a muffin than another person. And two, 'finding out one of your friends is gay' is putting it lightly, considering the 19+ thoughts and vivid imagery Seungcheol forced upon his brain.

He wonders, briefly, what cracking his head open and washing his brain out with soap would feel like.

"I don't like guys," Hansol blurts, ducking his head, and then looking out into the street the next second. Seungkwan finds the whole slew of mannerisms suspicious, but he shakes his head to clear it, because he hasn't got any time to investigate.

"I know that. Me too," Seungkwan declares. "I'm asking, what would you do if you, someone who's straight, found out that one of your friends isn't, you know, straight." Seungkwan finally makes eye contact with a waiter and he flashes the guy a smile, which automatically means that he wants his usual drink.

He turns back to Hansol and wrinkles his nose. "I mean, yeah, the decent thing to do is to be supportive about it. But he doesn't know that I know. And I have it on good authority that he has ... needs. Urgent needs. So the logical thing to do would be to help him out without him knowing, right?"

Of course he has his answer already. He always does. But he always goes to Hansol to ask if his answer makes any lick of sense. Hansol or Seungcheol, really, but since Seungcheol is the issue, he's there at the café waiting for Hansol to tell him he's right.

"What do you mean by, uh, needs, exactly?" Hansol asks slowly. He's put his pencil down and pulled his head phones down around his neck.

Seungkwan wonders briefly if he's going to be the one to explain the birds and the, er, birds to Hansol. But Hansol would know what he's talking about. With the amount of dicking around the members do in the dorms, with all the eyebrow-waggling from Junhui and horrible innuendos courtesy of Jeonghan, he'd have to have some idea.

"Let's just say he's thirsty," Seungkwan says. Again, putting it lightly. The intensity of Seungcheol's thirst rivals that of the planet Venus's surface.

" _Oh,"_ Hansol says quietly, leaning back. His eyebrows furrow. "Are you sure you should be meddling in someone's private life like that?"

"That's a good question," Seungkwan nods, and then turns to the waiter as he comes with a mug of hot cocoa. "To put it simply, yeah, I'm sure. I don't usually 'meddle', but when it concerns me personally, I'm inclined to weasel in once in a while."

It was his way of saying that if Seungcheol doesn't do something about his 'needs' soon, it's going to affect their group dynamic. He could just imagine Coups-hyung redirecting all that pent up frustration towards them during practice. He shudders.

Hansol eyes him warily. "Wait a second--it's one of the hyungs, isn't it?"

Of course, Hansol can be sharp every now and then. Seungkwan feigns ignorance, testing the hot cocoa with his lips. It was pointless to say or do anything at this point. Even if he denies it, the seed would have already been planted in Hansol's head.

"Seungkwan," Hansol starts, and his voice has changed into what Seungkwan liked to call his 'responsible adult' voice. "You remember the last time you heard something and then acted on it without knowing everything? It's not polite to eavesdrop, you know."

Yes, he remembers. That was the last time he was ever going to ask what Jihoon and CEO-nim get up to behind closed doors. Jihoon punished him for weeks after that wild assumption of his. But he can't really help but eavesdrop now that it's there and he can't control it.

"It's different this time," Seungkwan insists. "I _know."_

He doesn't know how the hell he knows, how this whole damn mind-reading thing works, he's literally only had it for two days, but he _knows,_ because he's had proof that the thoughts flitting in his head are real.

He's sure he's not insane. In the practice room the day before, he literally saw Minghao give Soonyoung the stink eye just when the words relating to torture and eventual murder ghosted across his mind, in Minghao's cute, accented Korean.  
  
No, it's not because of the exhaustion or the hunger. It's Minghao, plotting Soonyoung's murder. He worries that the guy's serious about it, but then, he couldn't be. Minghao's a sweet guy, and he's just stressed that choreographer-nim and Soonyoung don't listen to his suggestions.

But everything else makes a sick load of sense.

Mingyu and Wonwoo have been quarreling lately, though he's not sure why, and Mingyu's frustrated thoughts match his actions perfectly. Seokmin's entire lack of thought process reflects his zombie-like status. They're all about to make a comeback into the music scene after all. And Seungcheol, his thoughts ...

Seungkwan doesn't even want to get into that, but Seungcheol's shortness with anything and everything is a clear side-effect of sexual repression. His graphic thoughts mirror his current state.

And he kind of really wants to help out. He's never felt the need before, never been particularly _wanting_ in that way, but he knows it must suck, because Seungcheol's been having sleep issues and he's been losing weight, too.

Hansol's been eyeing him with a critical gaze, seemingly waiting for Seungkwan to come out of his thoughts. Seungkwan shakes his head again, and then blows on the rim of his cocoa before taking another sip.

"I'm warning you against doing anything rash," Hansol finally says, his fingers already poised around his headphones. "But don't come crying to me with a sore ass because one of the hyungs decided spanking was an acceptable form of punishment."

Seungkwan's scowls, but then his lips quirk into a tiny little devious smile. It's Hansol's way of giving him permission to do whatever it is he feels like doing. In Seungkwan's head, the words mean, 'if you do anything stupid, I'll try to clean up your mess.'

Seungkwan reaches out and pats Hansol's arm a few times, before downing his cocoa in one go and bouncing out of his seat.

Hansol's lips tug at the corners as he watches Seungkwan slap some money down on the bar counter.

He puts his headphones back on and gets some inspiration for a rap verse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment or something. Please anticipate Seungcheol's secret thoughts, because it's about to get pornographiccc.  
> Or not.  
> Jisoos take the wheel.
> 
> QOTD: Why didn't Seungkwan just read Hansol's thoughts? Hmm ...


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh, Pledis! Pledis! It's them!" Soonyoung points to the screen, vibrating in his seat. Immediately the group begins a heated debate. Jihoon laments about the unfortunate situation, Chan is swelling with pride at the flashing of their company's name on the screen, while Jeonghan prattles on about how much slayage is about to happen.

Seungkwan keeps his eyes on the flatscreen TV, trying to pretend he's focusing on the survival program. Trying and failing not to squirm as Seungcheol's persistent thoughts hammer through the walls in his brain.

Around him the other members continue to chatter excitedly. They're watching the pilot episode of Produce 101, waiting for their company sunbaes, NU'EST. They're basically family, having trained and rubbed shoulders with them for years. Brothers from another mother.

_They're our brothers, sort of, yet Seungcheol--he--_

"You're awfully quiet, Seungkwan." Joshua casts him a sidelong glance, his eyes flitting back to the screen. "You haven't said one word against the other trainees. Zero derision. No witty remark about their outfits. It's unsettling."

To be honest, he can't concentrate at all on the show. Not when Seungcheol's been cataloguing each trainee like a piece of meat, grading them with his own private little system: Height, facial structure, smile. Tightness of pants, biceps, curvature of ass. Seungkwan could swear that Seungcheol moaned in his head at seeing Kang Daniel. The sheer intensity of Seungcheol's thirst is a complete 180 to his sober, expressionless face, a face that's deterring anyone else from engaging him in conversation.

Everyone else is thinking that Seungcheol must be feeling bad, guilty almost, that NU'EST has been forced to go on a show full of trainees to get public recognition. He was almost a NU'EST member, after all, so it makes sense that he's quiet.

 _Oh, but if they only knew,_ Seungkwan thinks with a pained sigh.

"I just feel a little uncomfortable about this whole thing," he answers. 'A little' being an understatement.

Seungkwan's vague enough that Joshua nods in understanding. Joshua must be thinking that he's feeling the same way as Seungcheol.

Seungkwan doesn't know for sure. He still hasn't figured out how the whole mind-reading thing works, how, despite his best efforts, he can only pick up random words from the others' thoughts while Seungcheol's blares over the rest, like a phone with excellent reception. He could pick up Minghao's thoughts before, and the vast emptiness of Seokmin's brain, but now it's like he's just tuned into one, incredibly erotic and unapologetic radio station.

It's slowly driving him insane.

_Jesus fucking Christ Dongho looks hot._

Seungkwan casts their leader a panicked look.

_What I'd do to get him to nut all over my--_

"Ookay!" Seungkwan shoots up from his seat, startling everyone. "Anyone thirsty? I sure am. I'll go get a drink in the break room."

He's not a prude, but Seungcheol's thoughts are quickly becoming graphic, too graphic, that Seungkwan's starting to feel a little violated. And a little aroused.

Which is crazy, because he doesn't like guys that way.

_It must be Seungcheol's thoughts. They're so strong that it's confusing the heck out of me._

_I need fresh air and pure thoughts and some freaking tea._

He bolts out of the practice room, making a beeline for the break room next door, and then deciding against it because he might pick up Seungcheol's lusty musings even with a few inches of concrete wall between them.

He finds himself at the opposite side of the building, his feet having taken him to the other break room near the south entrance. The boys aren't exactly barred from using it, but it's been an unspoken agreement that it's territory of the members of Pristin.

He's surprised to find one of them there when he barges in. It's Nayoung, her face a picture of concentration as she pours hot water from an electric kettle into paper cups on a tray. Her eyes flicker towards him, flicker back to the cups, and then back again to Seungkwan. Seungkwan freezes by the doorway, blinking at her.

Her thoughts are a quiet but persistent ball of anxiety aimed towards the rest of her members. It feels dull, not as intense as Seungcheol's, but it's there, the constant worry of a group leader. Seungkwan's a little reassured that at least one leader in the building is preoccupied with less pornographic pursuits.

"Hi," Seungkwan says after a beat.

Nayoung continues to eye him, gently lifting the kettle and pouring water into the next cup. "Seungkwan. What are you doing here?"

Seungkwan doesn't know what to do with his hands, so he shoves them in his pockets and casually saunters in.

"I," he starts. "Are the girls watching Produce 101?"

Nayoung stares at him stonily for a moment, and then nods. "Kyulkyung-ie insisted. We still have to practice our new choreography later in the night. But they deserve a break, I guess."

"Awesome." Seungkwan edges around the kitchenette, trying to get out of her way. They must have some tea in here somewhere, he thinks, deciding that he'll rummage around later once Nayoung is done with her business. He grabs a seat near the table and slowly slips into it, his eyes never leaving Nayoung's form.

Once a whole tray full of cups are filled and the smell of coffee is wafting inside the room, Nayoung turns to him, hands on her hips and all and sighs. "You look like you're itching to say something. Do you have a problem? Maybe I can help out."

She says it in such a motherly way that Seungkwan nearly confesses everything. But he manages to hold his tongue just when he's about to, and he snaps his mouth shut. Instead, he tries to think of a way to explain what's bothering him without actually going into the details.

"Do you--"he stops to process things in his head, and then breathes out through his nose. He's a little bewildered that he's involving Nayoung of all people in this. She's a great leader, insightful, deep-thinking, but she's also unpredictable. Sometimes she's naive and sometimes she's the most mature person in the building.

"I know this is probably a really weird and disturbing question. Bear with me because I'm trying to help out a friend. But do you know any boy group member who's ..."

Seungkwan scrunches one side of his face, and tries very hard to think of a word that's close enough to gay that Nayoung can understand. Nayoung raises an eyebrow at his question, waiting for him to finish.

"You know ..." Seungkwan does a complicated motion with his hand, and then ends up doing a hair-flipping motion and battling his eyes coquettishly.

Nayoung squints, her arms crossing in front of her. "I don't understand exactly. I think I'm following, but I'm pretty sure you did not just describe someone who's gay as ... whatever that was."

"Yes," Seungkwan says in relief, glad that she's on the same page, but then shakes his head in defense. "I didn't mean--oh, but ..." He's not really an expert on these things, which is bad because he hates asking people for help when it comes to sucking at stuff. But at least Nayoung understands, and whatever ignorance he just displayed can be sorted out later. For now, he leans forward and smiles meekly, eager for any information.

Nayoung sighs, and Seungkwan's smile slips from his face when he catches a glimpse of her thoughts, thoughts directed towards him.

Seungkwan's hackles rise. "Not--not for me! No, no. I'm not," he blurts, hands going up in defense. "I'm not the one looking. It's just that one of my friends is, uh, looking."

It sounds like a lame excuse, even though it's not, it's for Seungcheol, and Nayoung looks unconvinced. But she deliberates on it for a bit, and then nods.

"I'm not that good at telling from afar," she admits. "And I don't really entertain gossip whenever there is one within hearing distance, but if you want, I can give you Minkyung's number. She would know. I'll tell her that you'll KaTalk."

Seungkwan doesn't ask how Minkyung would know anything about gay boys, but he doesn't comment, and instead offers up his phone, slipping it across the table. Nayoung approaches and picks it up, her curious gaze never leaving his face as she punches in the numbers.

"Thank you, noona," Seungkwan says sweetly. "It'll be a great help."

Nayoung makes a noncommittal noise when she hands him back his phone, before turning back to the tray of drinks and carrying it from the counter. "Just don't do anything stupid, like get caught texting her or whatever."

Slighted, Seungkwan's face pinches, but he doesn't argue. For a second, the image of Hansol flashes in his head. _He said he'd get me out of it if I get into any trouble._

And then Nayoung is stepping out of the break room, which means he can finally look for some tea to brew so he can get rid of his headache.

\--

It's Sunday night, and he's managed to tough it out for two days by distancing himself from Seungcheol as much as possible. He could tell that the members are starting to notice his behavior, but they don't say anything about it and Seungkwan is tight-lipped about the whole thing. He can't exactly jeopardize Seungcheol's private life by making the whole 'thirsty' issue a group issue, so he resolves to find a solution to it by himself.

He's in bed, buried in sheets because they have air conditioning now, and he's trying to come up with something smart or witty to say to Minkyung as he stares at his phone screen. From across the room, Hansol is listening to a song with his headphones, but every once in a while he's glancing at him, curious. He doesn't say anything about his behavior though, Hansol rarely does, and Seungkwan's grateful for it.

In the end, he settles for saying a simple 'hey' to start their Kakao conversation.

_[Boo] [12:30 AM] Hey_

A brief moment later and he gets a response.

_[Minkyung] [12:32 AM] seungkwan-ie, hello_

_[Minkyung] [12:32 AM] nayoung unni told me about your little problem_

Seungkwan grimaces, burying further into the sheets.

_[Boo] [12:32 AM] it's not MY problem  
_

_[Boo] [12:33 AM] it's a FRIEND'S problem  
_

_[Boo] [12:33 AM] the facts are important in this case  
_

_[Boo] [12:33 AM] thought you should know  
_

_[Minkyung] [12:33 AM] you sound so defensive ha ha  
_

_[Minkyung] [12:33 AM] ook, not your problem, but defo a problem?  
_

_[Minkyung] [12:34 AM] so you need someone who's gay  
_

Seungkwan finds little amusement in the fact that he's messaging a girl group member for advice about scoping out the gays in the idol scene. Just the thought of anyone from Pristin misconstruing his need for information is giving him a migraine.

_[Boo] [12:35 AM] again, not me  
_

_[Boo] [12:35 AM] a friend  
_

_[Boo] [12:36 AM] i'm trying to be a good samaritan by lending him my assistance  
_

_[Boo] [12:36 AM] and i'm leaving his name out for privacy reasons  
_

_[Boo] [12:36 AM] can't have anyone else knowing  
_

He pauses, and then decides to turn the conversation on her.

_[Boo] [12:37 AM] what would you know, anyway  
_

_[Boo] [12:37 AM] I mean, why would nayoung noona refer you?  
_

Seungkwan waits for an answer, all the while trying not to look too suspicious in front of Hansol, who's looking at him curiously every now and then.

_[Minkyung] [12:39 AM] i have my ways  
_

_[Minkyung] [12:39 AM] i sense these things, and then ask around without making it seem too suspicious  
_

_[Minkyung] [12:40 AM] consider it a secret power of mine ho ho  
_

Seungkwan snorts, trying to imagine Minkyung working her allure on some poor, unsuspecting soul. His thoughts flit briefly to his own mysterious powers, and then he shakes his head to focus.

_[Boo] [12:41 AM] OK, so, I need names  
_

_[Boo] [12:42 AM] and no speculating. i need someone whom i can approach who wouldn't, like  
_

_[Boo] [12:42 AM] punch me in the face as soon as i insinuate  
_

Seungkwan waits, and a minute passes without a reply from her, and Seungkwan's just beginning to think that she doesn't really know anything at all, when her next message comes up and a list of about eight people appear on his screen.

Seungkwan blinks in awe.

_[Boo] [12:45 AM] no way  
_

_[Boo] [12:45 AM] no. way.  
_

_[Boo] [12:45 AM] you've got to be kidding me  
_

_[Minkyung] [12:46 AM]_

__

_[Minkyung] [12:46 AM] nope  
_

_[Minkyung] [12:47 AM] and that's just in our age range  
_

_[Minkyung] [12:47 AM] the ones that I know about at least  
_

_[Minkyung] [12:47 AM] i know some more people, but i'd rather keep that info to myself for now  
_

_[Boo] [12:48 AM] this is nuts oh my god  
_

_[Boo] [12:48 AM] heol.  
_

_[Boo] [12:48 AM] heol._

_[Boo] [12:48 AM] how sure are you about all of this???  
_

Seungkwan is floored by the list, to put it lightly. He didn't expect anyone on the list to be gay, which automatically makes him doubt the authenticity of the list. Well, one or two of them, yes, they could be gay, if you're gonna base it on their openness to expressing sexuality and all that, but the rest of them ... Seungkwan tries not to let the shock show on his face, because Hansol has his eyes trained on him now.

_[Minkyung] [12:49 AM] 99.9%  
_

_[Minkyung] [12:49 AM] i can't guarantee that they'd take it well if you just bluntly asked them about it  
_

_[Minkyung] [12:50 AM] but if my intel is wrong then i'll treat you out somewhere  
_

_[Minkyung] [12:50 AM] from my own pocket, not from the company card  
_

Seungkwan is still finding it very hard to believe, but if she's right and these guys were homosexual, then--

Then his task might not seem so daunting after all. He blinks at the screen, reeling from the revelation.

"Whatcha doing?"

Seungkwan jumps when Hansol props a knee on his bed, leaning over and trying to get a peek at his phone. Seungkwan lets out a disgruntled sound and pulls away, rolling towards the edge of the bed and pressing tight against the wall. Hansol narrows his eyes at him.

"I just saw Minkyung noona's name," Hansol says with a frown. The furrowed eyebrows and the bunched up shoulders immediately tell Seungkwan that Hansol's annoyed about something.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing!" Seungkwan squeaks, and then tries a dazzling smile to placate him. "Just ... researching. You know. Networking. That kind of stuff."

Hansol purses his lips, but he doesn't pry. He never pries whenever Seungkwan wants to keep something a secret, which, of course, makes Seungkwan feel instantly guilty. Because Hansol probably wants to help him or something, or just be in the loop.

Seungkwan's learned from their time together that Hansol doesn't like not knowing about the things going on about his members. But at the same time he doesn't actively try to stick his nose into the others' business if he can help it. Which makes this time a little weird, since Hansol actually crossed the length of the room to find out why Seungkwan's face is red and inches from his phone. Hansol never puts in that kind of effort. _  
_

Odd.

"It's nothing," Seungkwan says again, sounding more composed this time, his lips settling down into an uneasy smile. "Go to bed, Hansol. I'll tell you about it once I know what I'm doing."

Hansol does what he always does--he shrugs, like he doesn't really care whether he knows about stuff or not, and then retreats, backing away and not pressing the matter. It makes Seungkwan's insides churn, because he usually tells Hansol these things. He shares so many secrets with Hansol that he can't even count the many inside jokes and signals they share.

But he can't share this with him this time, because Seungcheol's private life is on the line, along with several others, if Minkyung is to be believed.

They settle into silence, and Seungkwan inches away from the wall next to his bed and tries to plot. He doesn't know how he's gonna pull off what he's planning, but in the back of his head he knows that it's all going to be alright.

His head falls to the side, looking across the room. Hansol would be there if things don't work out.

If he needs help, maybe then he'll tell him everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually did a quick research on timelines for this one lol  
> Produce 101 aired on April 7, the same day an episode of One Fine Day in Japan aired . That would mean Seventeen would probs be watching both, and would be in the building (I'm not sure though, idk where the hell they were at this time).  
> Pristin would be promoting their debut song at this time. They'd be coming from Music Bank, and since that airs in the afternoon, I'm assuming they'd be in the building later in the evening when Produce 101 airs.


	3. Chapter 3

Maybe it's because they're leaving for Los Angeles in a few days' time to prepare for their comeback, or maybe it's because after four or five years everyone has finally reached their tipping point, crossing that threshold of patience and tolerance everyone's had for each other, but Seungkwan has literally not seen the group so frayed and frustrated and _done_ with everything.

It's the first time since he got his stupid abilities that he could hear everyone. Literally, their thoughts are fighting each other, like car horns during a highway traffic jam. It's a complete reflection of the undercurrent of hostilities brewing in the dorms.

Jihoon's holed himself up in his studio like a hermit, driving everyone away except for when they have snacks to offer. They're probably set for the next three comebacks if Jihoon's channeling his frustrations into producing, and Seungkwan has a feeling that the fans would be seeing an even angstier Seventeen once the next comeback cycle hits. Seungkwan stops by every now and then with pizza and bubble tea, each time hoping that Jihoon hasn't collapsed out of starvation.

Seungkwan's beginning to run out of excuses to say so he could drag Minghao away from Soonyoung. He's paranoid that one of these nights Minghao's going to grab something sharp and jam-jam it through Soonyoung's eye socket. One time he had to fake a sensitive body problem just so he could distract Minghao long enough to send Soonyoung to the convenience store.

It doesn't help that Jun's adding fuel to the fire by stressing Minghao out about their duet in the upcoming album. Jun's a perfectionist, and somehow he's paranoid that if they fail to impress, this will be the last chance CEO-nim would give them when it comes to b-sides.

He'll send me back to Shenzhen, I can feel it, Jun would think in despair, which is ridiculous considering how Jun is a company asset now, and Seungkwan would try to make him feel better by telling him that the song is fine, his vocal quality is excellent, and he looks hot, all without letting him know that he's thinking so intensely that Seungkwan's picking it up. Jun would preen, and then be reminded of how he and Hao barely get any lines in title tracks to begin with, kickstarting his inner monologue all over again.

Mingyu is _still_ not talking to Wonwoo, and Seungkwan has no idea what that's about. Mingyu's thoughts are a whir of frustration, something about Wonwoo failing to do something or ignoring him--he's not sure because whenever he tries to hone in on Mingyu's thoughts three others in the building intensify.

He never thought Jeonghan could swear so much about sweat and hair damage. Seungkwan's told him multiple times that the hair people plan to cut his hair shorter so that it's more manageable, but the only way he could prove it is by saying 'they've been thinking about it'. Jeonghan never takes his words seriously.

"I'm hideous. Don't look at me," Jeonghan moans, throwing himself over the living room cough after practice. It's a testament to how tired he is when he doesn't bother changing before rubbing his sweat-soaked self all over the upholstery. It's going to drive Wonwoo insane once the couch starts smelling, Seungkwan thinks.

Seungkwan, who's long given up on trying to contend for the position of main visual, doesn't even look in his direction, instead sharing a look with Joshua, who's looking worse for wear but still relatively sane. The look they share has something to do with the time tested tradition of shoving Jeonghan into the bathroom and forcing him to bathe until he's fresh and clean and rid of hair care anxiety.

Joshua rolls his eyes. "I'll get the hair brush and the dryer. You get the shower ready."

Good ol' reliable Joshua.

Surprisingly enough, it's their maknae who's holding up pretty well, too well, in fact--Chan has always been hardwired to perform, but never has Seungkwan seen the guy so motivated to nail everything, whether it's choreography or a line in a song. Seungkwan has taken to shoving Chan toward Seokmin's way, because Seokmin seems like the least motivated to do anything, and Chan is an absolute ball of energy.

He still hasn't figured out what has Seokmin in such a funk, and normally Seungkwan would be determined to fix this unnatural phenomenon--because honestly, Seokmin's a self-proclaimed mood maker, and if his mood is complete turd then their morale would spiral into an chasm--but Seungkwan's so busy juggling everything that it's taking every ounce of his energy trying to keep everyone from butting heads.

And the only person who can fix it, the only one with actual power to bring them together to smooth things over and talk, is currently on the verge of a breakdown of a different kind.

Seungkwan, for the life of him, can't figure out why Seungcheol's like this, why he's letting something as secondary as his sex life (or lack of it) affect his performance. He can't even meet anyone's eyes during practice, and the lack of synergy between him, Soonyoung, and Jihoon is fueling the discord.

It's part of the reason why Seungkwan's at the local convenience store now, staring at a shelf of instant food products. The exhaustion is making him think that a floury, salty meal is all it will take to bring their leaders together for some much needed heart-to-heart. But Seungcheol's made it clear that his problem is his to solve alone, and that infuriates Seungkwan, because he knows every intimate detail about that problem.

He has his phone in his pocket, and he's taken it out and shoved it back into his pants so many times that it's become a habit. He's memorized Minkyung's list, has done all the research he can without alerting suspicion. But still, he can't get a hold of any of the guys, since they all have their own schedules. There's one, however, who can be easily contacted. But his group's at the tail end of a promotions cycle, and it's nearly impossible to get a hold of him.

Soonyoung or Seungcheol could probably make the arrangements to hang, but they've all got their plates full.

Seungkwan briefly entertains the possibility of Seungcheol sleeping with a fan. He blinks tiredly at one of the ramyeon packets in his hand and decides that no, Seungcheol bedding a fanboy is a surefire recipe for disaster.

A hand catches his forehead before it smacks against the metal shelf. Jostled, Seungkwan takes a few steps back and shakes himself awake.

His eyes widen at Hansol, looking just as casual in a hoodie but significantly more put-together. The guy probably followed him to the store, and he looks like he's been giving him the stink eye for a while now. Seungkwan would have noticed, except he thought the cashier at the counter was San-E when he entered the place. It wasn't San-E, and he literally has zero awareness of his surroundings right now.

It's not like it's his fault he's walking around like a zombie trying to fix stuff with Nongshim Neoguri and cheese slices.

"You need to sleep," Hansol says, all casual, turning to the shelves and picking out a few items.

Seungkwan feels like repeating the words. Like that Spongebob meme, all mocking and dismissive, just to spite Hansol for looking like a fangirl's dream in the middle of all this stress.

But instead he says, "I'll sleep on the plane."

"The plane won't be off the ground 'til Friday. Stop being an idiot." Hansol, his savior, relieves him of the assortment of garbage he's hoarded against his chest and drops them all in a basket.

"The plane isn't waiting for us at the airport, dummy. We don't own a plane. We're not Big Bang."

"No, we're not. I don't think gods like them suffer from the usual idol problems."

Hansol doesn't say anything serious when they walk to the counter. He just talks quietly about comeback preparations, though Seungkwan can tell that he's waiting. If Seungkwan had his wits about him, he'd think that Hansol is biding his time, waiting for him to admit to everything he knows. But Seungkwan's tired, and he just wants to nap for three years, so yeah, maybe it's time that he roped someone else into the mix.

"You can keep a secret, right?" Seungkwan sighs, peering into the bag of convenience store crap and then looking at Hansol's face. Seungkwan sees him freeze, his expression betraying some of his anticipation before they wash away into a mask of indifference.

"Is this about the question you asked me last week?"

They walk out into the street, and Hansol doesn't glance at him, pretending that he's cool and doesn't really care whether he knows anything or not. But his eyes are glowing, and he's got his head turned in such a way that his good ear is angled towards Seungkwan's direction.

Seungkwan grimaces as a way of answer.

"Is it Cheol-hyung?" Hansol peers back at him, and Seungkwan stutters in his step, mouth hanging open.

Hansol is harebrained most of the time, but every now and then he's perceptive. But not about things like this. Seungkwan would have never pegged him as someone who'd go and investigate after getting a lead on something that isn't any of his business. Seungkwan narrows his eyes at him.

"How did you know?" A stupid question, since he knows Hansol could have figured it all out himself after that time at the cafe.

What he really meant to ask was, 'You knew all this time and you didn't tell me?'

Hansol shrugs, though he does look a little smug for hitting the nail on the head.

"It was easy. You go to Cheol-hyung whenever you have your stupid little problems. But you went to me instead. And also, the group's pretty much a mess right now, and he isn't trying to do anything or fix shit, so he must be going through something big."

He then trains his eyes on Seungkwan, all soft and bright, and Seungkwan's surprised to find that there's a weird mix of affection and amusement in them.

It kind of makes his breath catch.

"And since you know every little detail about it for some unknown reason, you're running around trying to fix everything, solve his problem for him. Because that's so you."

Hansol walks on ahead while Seungkwan gapes at him like a fish.

He hurries to catch up to Hansol a few seconds later.

"I'm going to pretend that you didn't just blindside me. Because honestly, that would injure my pride," Seungkwan huffs. "But we have more pressing matters at hand. This problem won't go away unless we do something, and I'd really like to have the group all spick-and-span before we're let loose on L.A."

Hansol snorts, his eyes doing a quick sweep of the sky above. "What do you want me to do?"

Seungkwan wants to punch him, but he doesn't have the energy. Hansol is willing to cooperate, at least.

He wants to be the one to deal with the whole horny gay leader issue, so he delegates Hansol to the member duties, like getting Seokmin to open up, feeding Jihoon's stomach and Jun's ego, all the member management nonsense. Josh has got Jeonghan covered, at least, and he wants to be the one to talk to Wonwoo. All the interesting stuff he wants for himself.

"And please, can you try to keep Hao from killing Soonyoung when you can?" Seungkwan swipes at his face, running his hand over it. "I know how he's feeling right now. The guy just wants to feel useful, but Soonyoung-hyung and Hyelim-noona won't budge. He has all these acrobatic ideas ..."

Hansol stares at him, wide-eyed. "You figured all that just from observing?"

Seungkwan rubs the back of his neck. He can't exactly take credit for being sensitive to the others' problems when he could literally read their thoughts with one mind-scan. He feels guilty for cheating, sort of, mind-reading powers and everything, but that's a secret he isn't quite ready to spill. Not until he figures out how the hell the whole thing works.

He's saved from having to explain when they get stopped by the Pledis building entrance. It's Minkyung and Siyeon, and Minkyung looks serious.

"It's not my fault," Siyeon starts, at the same time Minkyung says, "we've got a problem."

He notices Hansol tense next to him, could feel the gears trying to click in Hansol's head, but Seungkwan ignores him and gestures for Minkyung to continue.

Minkyung's voice drops to an urgent whisper.

"CEO Han has my phone."

The blood drains from his face. He knows that that can't be good.

"And?" he asks, already dreading the next words.

"Seungkwan, he read our Kakao messages."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll proofread this tomorrow it's 2:34am lol


	4. Chapter 4

Seungkwan's only been to the boss' office once, when he accidentally spread that totally false rumor about Jihoon and Han CEO's torrid affair behind closed doors. Back then, CEO Han was just as intimidating as he is now, staring at Seungkwan with a steely gaze that could be mistaken as fatherly, if you were the kind of person who grew up in a strict household.

Seungkwan got out of that mess scot-free by acting like he usually does in the presence of authority: by being using his charm and wit to outmaneuver the opposition. He didn't need Hansol by his side back then, and he certainly doesn't need him now, but Hansol insisted he tag along, and Seungkwan didn't have time to argue. He can't make the president of the company wait, after all.

So Hansol's in the cold yet brightly lit office with him, standing like a sentinel a little off to the side, waiting to witness Seungkwan get a dressing down, or a pardon, depending on how things go.

"I see you got yourself a new suit, boss-nim." Seungkwan's hamming it up, doing his emcee voice and everything. "Pledis seems to be doing well these days."

This statement should work as a casual reminder that Seventeen's been making bank for Pledis, and that whatever sentence comes from Katalking Minkyung (and doing other yet unidentified infractions), the punishment should be lightened on account of they're coming back to the music scene soon.

Seungkwan flashes the other a tight smile. CEO Han has his fingers curled on his desk, next to Minkyung's Galaxy phone. He doesn't seem too upset, at least compared to the last time, but his face isn't too friendly either, lined with years of what must have been dealing with the stubbornness of the likes of Kahi and Dambi.

"I see you've been asking Roa regarding info on some of our industry homosexuals," CEO Han counters, one eyebrow inching upwards, and Seungkwan falters mentally. "Gay idols around your age, I believe. Is there's something you're not telling me, Seungkwan?"

 _Crap._ And Seungkwan thought he was in there to be punished. _Of course_ the boss would be interested in the contents of their messages. His smile wavers just a bit--he's not as talented as Wonwoo or Nayoung when it comes to a poker face--but he recovers by playing it casual and blinking innocently. Knowing the boss, he'd have read every word exchanged between him and Minkyung, so Seungkwan would have to tread carefully since the boss would know the reason why he was asking for a list.

"I was curious," Seungkwan says with a shrug. "I mean, you can hardly fault me for being the gossip-y type. You knew that about me when I got casted."

CEO Han leans back on his chair, eyes never leaving Seungkwan.

"Curiosity killed cat, Seungkwan. Or rather, curiosity left a tip over at Dispatch and got the cat exiled from the industry."

Seungkwan's smile turns down at the sides. _That doesn't happen all the time,_ he wants to say. Hong Seokcheon, the biggest gay personality in South Korea, is still appearing on TV.

He knows, however, that the CEO is talking about idols. Ever since idols became a thing in the 90s, there hasn't been a single idol who's come out of the closet, for fear of alienating their fans. Seungkwan knows this, so he doesn't say anything. He isn't quick enough to conjure a response, and CEO Han curls his fingers on his desk again and continues.

"Who is it, then? Your 'curious' friend?"

"I can't tell you," is his terse reply.

"Vernon?"

Seungkwan casts a quick, panicked glance at Hansol, and then realizes his mistake when CEO Han catches the movement in his eye.

Hansol isn't very good at telling lies. He's good at lying by omission, which involves mostly keeping his mouth shut and avoiding questions, but once interrogated he cracks like a china doll. Everyone knows this. CEO Han knows this. He shouldn't have brought Hansol along.

Hansol looks like a deer caught in headlights, eyes flickering between CEO Han and Seungkwan. Seungkwan doesn't want to reveal a secret that isn't his to tell, especially a secret as big as Seungcheol's, and he doesn't want Hansol to feel guilty about ratting Seungcheol out when he's not a very good secret keeper to begin with, so before Hansol opens his mouth, Seungkwan steps in and says the first words that come to him.

"It's me," he blurts out. "I'm the curious friend."

CEO Han's gaze turns to him, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"You?" CEO Han deadpans.

"I'm the gay," Seungkwan says, injecting some confidence in his tone, even though internally he's groaning at what he's just said. Hansol's gaping at him, as if he doesn't know that Seungkwan's deflecting the attention away from him and Seungcheol. _I'm lying, dummy. This is how you lie._

There's a pregnant pause in the conversation where Seungkwan couldn't hear anything apart from the sounds filtering from the street outside, the quick pulse of blood pumping in his ears, and the quiet sound of Hansol breathing through his nose.

Eventually, CEO Han reclines in his chair, his face looking ... almost serene.

Seungkwan knows, intuitively, that he hasn't convinced the boss, that CEO Han could see through his lies and that he's trying to think of what to do to make him tell the truth.

So it surprises Seungkwan a great deal when CEO Han says, "I see. I'm not surprised. I already had a feeling."

Seungkwan cranes his head forward, his expression the face of utter bewilderment. "E-excuse me?"

CEO Han sighs, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up.

"It happens. Every agency has one or two per group," he laments. "As to why there's much more of them over at _this_ company, I am perplexed. Or at least, I used to be."

They follow CEO Han as he pushes himself up from his seat and walks over to the window overlooking the street below.

Seungkwan shares a look with Hansol, who's just as flabbergasted as he is, his eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"I don't exactly ... follow. Are you saying that ..."

"I raised this company from the ground up," CEO Han interrupts, smiling briefly at them and then gazing out into the street again. "Me and Kahi and Dambi. Our initial scouting team consisted of us three, along with a relative of mine who's got an eye for talent. Even now, our street casting is based off of the methods we used back then. Our management team, as you might have noticed by now, is considered severely lacking, but our casting team ... the industry sees us as legends."

Seungkwan doesn't understand why CEO Han has gone sentimental all of a sudden, but if listening to the story gets him out of trouble, he can spare a few moments to shut up.

"Little did I know," CEO Han pauses, and then chuckles to himself, a sound so foreign to their ears that they instantly feel disturbed by it. "That we were casting gays and lesbians. It hadn't occurred to me back then that they were better performers--hell, I didn't _know_ that we were casting homosexuals in the first place. But when they came to this office to talk to me--Rebekah, Jungah, the NU'EST boys, Jinah--one by one over the course of the years, I began to see the correlation."

He sees it all in his head, through the eyes of CEO Han--the images of their company sunbaes, one after the other, walking into the same room and telling the boss everything about their true identity. He sees Lizzy, looking frightened and uncertain about her decision. He sees Dongho, his chin up and his eyes shining with determination, his hand curled around the wrist of a hesitant Minki.

Seungkwan is at a loss for words. He peeks at Hansol's direction, and sees that he's frozen in place from the information overload. Seungkwan himself couldn't believe that CEO Han is telling them all of this.

"After that, I used sexual orientation as a gauge as to whether you're fit to represent the company. I remember being disappointed that not a single one of you Seventeen hopefuls ever displayed such inclinations. I thought, ah, there's something wrong with this bunch. But you were all so talented, and you were quickly turning into liabilities the longer you stayed as trainees, so we debuted you anyway."

CEO Han's eyes are shining as he looks at Seungkwan again, and this time, his expression's a mixture of relief and delight.

"I'm so glad that you turned out to be gay, Seungkwan."

Seungkwan reckons with a sinking feeling that now would be a horrible time to confess that he's not, he's straight as an arrow, but it's the first time since forever that CEO Han has looked at him with such pride in his eyes, that he chokes on his words and nods jerkily.

CEO Han steps away from the window and returns to his desk--Seungkwan doesn't know why it was necessary for him to stand up and look out the window in the first place--but once he's seated, he reverts back to his usual cold indifference, his eyes turning to steel once again.

"You do know that there are rules, right? Rules to dating?" he asks Seungkwan.

Seungkwan looks back to their trainee days, back when they were just kids trying to figure out how the hell Pledis worked as a company. He remembers being lectured about dating rules and bans, and how those rules can be thrown out the window the second one debuts.

"We're allowed to date outside the company, so long as we're transparent to the company execs about everything we do," Seungkwan recalls after swallowing the lump in his throat. "The management team can help us in keeping the dating thing a secret."

CEO Han nods, but it's the kind of indulgent nod that doesn't really mean he's satisfied with Seungkwan's answer.

"Those are the rules for the heterosexual idols," CEO Han replies. "There's a different set of rules for those who play for the same team."

"There are different rules?" It's Hansol who asks the question, and Seungkwan throws him a surprised look. Hansol's eyebrows are furrowed, and Seungkwan is at a loss as to why Hansol is even curious about that sort of thing.

"In a manner of speaking," CEO Han says, eyes moving to Hansol and then back to Seungkwan. "For one, you, Seungkwan, are not allowed to date outside the company."

A comment's ready to fly out of his lips--he's already prepared to argue that he can date any guy he wants to, whether it's outside the company or not, but he quickly corrects himself in his head. _Not_ _guy,_ he thinks in alarm, _I'm not gay!_ _Guy_ wouldn't be the right way to say it. But CEO Han sees him bristle, mistaking his internal battle as some sort of hesitation in questioning authority, and raises a hand to explain.

"Now, before you complain, this isn't a complete dating ban," the boss says solemnly. "You _are_ allowed to ... _fraternize_ with a fellow artist inside the company. It's a lot safer that way. We can guarantee that the company supports it, and we should be able to deny any speculation should the information leak outside to the public."

 _That means Seungcheol can't date outside the company._ Seungkwan's face falls, and just like that, his plan to hook Seungcheol up with someone from Monsta X or GOT7 is thrown out the window.

How the hell is he supposed to fix everything now?

He has the presence of mind to thank CEO Han for the chat, even though it hasn't helped him in any way whatsoever, and he pulls Hansol out of the room before the boss can bust out more sentimental crap about his beloved artists and start another trip down memory lane.

They bump into Minkyung and Siyeon, who almost fall through the door once they open it. Hansol closes it behind him quickly before the CEO can notice.

"Were you two eavesdropping?" Hansol hisses at them. Siyeon shakes her head quickly and Minkyung shrugs.

"How did it go?" the taller girl asks instead, and Hansol hesitates, turning to Seungkwan for help.

Seungkwan's mind is so muddled with thoughts of the previous conversation that he doesn't register what Hansol or Minkyung are saying. He's focusing on trying to find a different solution to the Seungcheol issue, but he's coming up with nothing, because ...

How is Seungcheol going to overcome his problem? The NU'EST hyungs are an option, but they're not even living in the dorms right now. They're at the Produce 101 camp trying to win over the national producers. Even if any of them ended up being interested, it would take months before they could come back and romance Seungcheol ... that is, if they even get eliminated, which Seungkwan highly doubts will happen soon.

There's the rest of the Seventeen group as the only alternative, but CEO Han firmly believes that the hyungs aren't gay. If anyone would know who the homosexual ones are in Seventeen, it would be the boss.

 _But that's not true. He didn't know--still doesn't know, that Seungcheol's been daydreaming of bonking boys since God knows when._ Seungcheol has somehow evaded the scrutiny of CEO Han.

Seungkwan's eyebrows knit together. _And why was the boss so ready to accept that_ _I'M the gay one? I'm not gay. I don't like guys like that. I_ don't _. And I don't give out gay vibes. At least, I hope not._

Seungkwan's headache has intensified over the course of the hour--he was running on just caffeine and sugar to begin with, and now, with the whole altercation with the boss, a huge chunk of his energy reserves has been exhausted.

"This is bad," he mumbles, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hands. "These _rules._ Ugh. We're going to have to fly to L.A. with Seungcheol the way he is."

Hansol tugs at the sleeve of his shirt, and Seungkwan follows, letting himself be guided towards the direction of the break room, wherein he's assuming Hansol would force him to sleep. Seungkwan hasn't even noticed that the girls have left.

"It's not so bad, these rules." Seungkwan glances sharply at Hansol and sees him scratching the back of his neck, his head ducked down, as if lost in thought. He doesn't meet Seungkwan's gaze, and that throws Seungkwan into another dizzying spiral of confusion.

 _You wouldn't understand,_ Seungkwan's tired, addled brain says to Hansol. _You haven't looked inside Seungcheol's head, and you have no idea how fucked we are._

The last thing he remembers is Hansol coaxing him down onto one of the break room couches and covering him with a blanket from one of the nearby closets, before he's drifting into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NGL I was drunk when I wrote this.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be three parts all the way up to the plane ride, but this got long and crisis-y, so I thought, let's make this it's own chapter.

When he wakes up from his sleep after the meeting with CEO Han, a crick in his neck and his senses thrown off, he finds a couple of texts from some people waiting on his phone. It's a habit, going to his phone the second he rouses from sleep. He'ss the maknae line's designated phone owner, and it's a serious responsibility, so of course Seungkwan uses the phone for nefarious purposes, which of course makes for the big chunk of the usual irritation Chan and Hansol has for him.

One of the texts is from Lizzy, who wrote three paragraphs about the dangers of the industry. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion. 'You can't just go around telling people who or what you really are,' she says. 'You never know who will end up stabbing you in the back.'

It doesn't take him too long to realize that she knows what transpired in the CEO's office. The horror sinks in immediately, making him scramble from the couch and onto his feet.

"Oh no, oh no oh no oh _no_ ," he chants, scrolling through the messages, pacing the floor and shaking his head in disbelief.

"Congratulations, Seungkwan-ie. It takes real man to admit what you just admitted. And to CEO-nim, no less. I had to drag Minki to the office and tell him that it's going to be OK, that the CEO has a history of being lenient towards homosexuality," he reads out loud.

That's from Dongho-hyung, his fellow artist from Jeju-do. His idol when it comes to supreme masculinity and manliness. _He's, oh my God he's gay._

'I knew it! I knew it! I'm so happy for you Seungkwan-ie.'

'Congrats baby Boo, congrats.'

'Our Boo is all grown up and exploring himself.'

'So proud of you--if you have any questions, don't hesitate to text.'

'I knew you weren't fabulous for nothing! After your promos end I'm taking you to shop!'

The support, oddly enough, makes him feel nice--he never enjoyed the attention of so many sunbaes before. He's unexpectedly all warm and tingly inside, after hearing that that the others care about him to the extent that they'd leave him messages and not minding at all that he's gay.

_Wait._

But he isn't gay.

Seungkwan shakes his head hard enough to make his hair flop around. God, how could he forget? _Seungkwan get a hold of yourself._

It's all a lie and it dawns on him, the lies he told. It makes him feel really guilty that they're all caught up in this web he wove.

_This is a straight up mess._

But the fact that nobody's even questioning it, none of them even batting an eyelash and doubting the piece of info like, 'hey, that's a surprise, I thought Seungkwan was straight--he's so straight and everything'. That-- _that_ makes him frustrated and all kinds of confused.

Does he come off as gay that much? How does he even come off as gay? What constitutes a gay aura?

All the pent up emotions turn into a kind of motivation that he hasn't felt in a while, a motivation to fix things before they turned into an even bigger mess.

He couldn't exactly take back what he said, couldn't suddenly burst through the doors of the CEO's office and undo the whole thing. What would CEO Han say? What would his hyungs and noonas say if he mass texted them right now, saying 'Sorry, uh, about that? I kinda lied. I like girls. 4giv me?'

No doubt they'd think that he's just doing it for the attention. His credibility would plummet deep into the Earth's core. The last thing that Seungkwan wants is for people to think that he's some attention seeker or a compulsive liar. The attention-seeking thing, he gets enough of that from his antis already. No, you never lie about serious stuff like sexual orientation.

Course, he ignores the reality that he did just that-- _lie_ and _con everyone--_ ignores that tiny tidbit to save himself from spiraling into a pit of self-loathing.

So ... so now what? What is he supposed to do?

The panic sets in, making his breaths come in short and his hands tremble. But before anything worse hits him, he gives himself a solid slap in the face.

The stinging pain knocks him out of his poisonous thoughts. No, he isn't going to crumble into hysterics. First things first, he needs to figure out how the news got out so fast.

Once he calmed down somewhat, he leaves the break room, makes a quick detour to the styling department's laundry room to drop off the blanket he used, and then runs around the upper floors looking for one of the staff to question. When he comes across Junhui, who has a big, shit-eating grin on his face, Seungkwan's face pales as he stops in his tracks. He considers, for one horrifying moment, if the members know-- _oh God what if they knew--_ but he doesn't have to wonder for long because the next words out of Jun's mouth basically confirms his worst fear.

"Seungkwan! I heard everything. Congr--"

"Oh my God, do not."

Seungkwan sidesteps Junhui and flees before the guy could so much as formulate a jab at his recent self-discovery.

 _The members know!?_ _No, no, this is turning into a nightmare._

The thought makes his anxiety surge. _They think I'm gay. They--they think I'm--_

He loses the ability to think straight and barrels through the halls at full speed, trying to escape.

It's not that it's anything bad, he tells himself, being gay and stuff, but Seungkwan has his own identity in the group, and being different in such a big way just adds to the list of everything else that sets him apart from the rest. The not so easy to digest list.

He's come to terms with those in the past--he's never going to be the handsome one, or the one attracts all the fans, the smart one, the cool one, the charming one. He developed the kind of tough mentality that's required of someone with so many shortcomings. It's part of being an idol. But being known as the gay one somehow adds the final nail to the coffin, like he's giving the members more arsenal to indirectly make him feel like crap about himself.

OK, so maybe he thinks it's bad.

_No, no, but Cheol-hyung is gay, too. Stop it. It's nothing to be ashamed of._

Seungkwan tries to repress the self-hate. _Because that's what this is. It's homophobia. This whole thought process is a product of a backwards society that marginalizes queer gender roles, polluting the minds of the young and old._

He learned about that from his training, knew how to recognize when he's being weighed down by what he grew up with. The company taught him better. He should know better. Minki's an icon of fluid sexuality. From day one, Joshua and Hansol had made certain that the members were sensitive about gender issues. It's all in his head, _all in your head,_ but his big gay reveal is hard to reconcile with the rest of his insecurities.

But is it even internalized homophobia if he isn't gay? What is he, even? Maybe ... he is and he just doesn't know it?

He hasn't really thought about it, but now it's all he can think about.

He hasn't thought about boys that much. But then again, he hasn't thought about girls either. He thinks that Monsta X' Wonho is sex on legs, but he also thinks that about Sojin from Girl's Day.

He keeps running it over and over in his head, what the members would think now that he's been 'outed', keeps thinking of the worst case scenario (ostracized, insulted, hated) even though it's all highly unlikely.

The members won't do that. They know better. They've been taught how to think right. They're amazing people. Minki's a gay icon. Seungcheol is gay. Pledis is predominantly _gay_.

How he finds himself curled up on a bench on top of the company building scrubbing angrily at his damp eyes is beyond him, but that's how someone finds him some unknown number of hours later.

"Seungkwan!" Hansol calls out from the roof entrance, crossing the distance in seconds. He's at Seungkwan's side in a heartbeat, relief obvious in his face.

Seungkwan unfurls like a shy little hedgehog, having lost track of time and space and everything. When he opens his eyes a second later, he finds Hansol watching him with concern.

"I've been looking everywhere for you. You OK?" the other boy asks quietly, worry lacing his voice. There's a tightening right around his solar plexus at the way Hansol's looking at him.

"Yes," he answers just as quietly. Then even more softly, he adds, "Well, no ... I feel terrible."

Hansol seems to melt in front of him, sinking onto the bench. For a second, his hand stretches out, as if he's going to touch Seungkwan's cheek or smooth his hair. The next second however, he drops it, and simply continues to watch Seungkwan again.

They sit there in silence, not sure of what to say to each other, but Hansol knows everything that's happened, and Seungkwan's expecting him to come out and say something any second now that would ruin the feeling of security and warmth Hansol's presence brings, that he makes a preemptive move to deflect whatever question Hansol wants to ask.

"Is that a loaf of bread?" Seungkwan asks sullenly, pointing to the plastic bag Hansol's gripping with one hand.

Hansol's face flames. He offers it the next second to Seungkwan, hand jutting out. Next to him on the bench is a jar of strawberry jam.

"I thought you might be hungry," Hansol ducks his head apologetically, like he should be apologizing for thinking about Seungkwan all the time. Where he is, how he's doing, wondering if he's eating anything. Something inexplicable blooms in Seungkwan's chest, stronger now, but he distracts himself from it by focusing on the fact that Hansol brought a freaking loaf of bread and jam on the rooftop in the hopes of finding and feeding him.

Seungkwan can't help it--he laughs. "And no butter knife? Or a spoon to spread it out? Vernon-ie, this isn't even sliced bread."

Hansol's face scrunches, looking abashed. He lowers the bread. "It's not like I had a lot of time to think. The last time anyone's seen you was when you ran into Junni-hyung. And it was the first thing I saw in the pantry."

Seungkwan sits up, trying to look less like a mess, considers the offering, and then takes the loaf from Hansol's outstretched hand.

He thinks about how the food would have gone great with some bubble tea, if only to save himself from thinking about how stupidly, stupidly thoughtful and sweet the gesture is. How considerate Hansol is, all the damn time.

He opens the bag, pulls down the plastic and takes a bite. He then snatches the jam away from Hansol before he even thinks of taking it back, and uncaps the jar.

It's the most ridiculous way of eating a strawberry jam sandwich--by shaking the jar and letting the jam dribble onto the corners of a full loaf, but it's the most comforting meal he's had in forever.

He eats, and tries to let the silence stretch. But he needs to say something to Hansol, because it feels like he owes him.

"I'm not gay," Seungkwan ends up telling him, though his voice is small and he doesn't sound confident about it.

"OK," Hansol says, nodding in understanding. "Are you straight?"

"I--"Seungkwan's jaw clenches. He swallows down his food. "You have to be, right? I mean, if you're not gay, like, by default, right?"

Hansol shakes his head. "You don't have to be anything, Seungkwan." He paused. "Do you ... do you feel pressured?"

Seungkwan does indeed feel pressured. The texts, the sudden expectations, the easy access to everyone's thoughts on top of that.

He shrugs, but he frowns at his bread.

"You don't have to be anything. Look--"Hansol turns to him, eyes growing soft. "I don't know, I mean. I grew up thinking it's alright. Being whatever you are. I imagine that you grew up thinking the same thing, but with a few ... conservative exceptions. And I know you. You probably haven't even thought about relationships, or like, sex, ever. Am I right?"

It's embarrassing, his face turning red as he scowls at Hansol. But he doesn't argue. The thought of being intimate with someone is a new, _new_ thing to him. How is he supposed to think about taking care of someone else, male or female, when he doesn't even know how to take care of himself yet? The thought has never occurred to him, not until Seungcheol started thinking about hardcore dirty sex nonstop.

"So you don't know yet, do you?" Hansol leans back on the bench and looks at the sky. "It's fine. Just do--or don't do--whatever seems right. Don't let what others think about you stop you from being yourself."

They sit in silence for a few moments, with Seungkwan chewing on his bread and mulling over Hansol's words.

"You're ... you're ..." _right,_ he wants to say.  _Perceptive. Smart. So cool._ It doesn't fail to amaze Seungkwan each time Hansol gives him advice, because he always sounds so sincere. Like he thought about you for a long time before choosing his words. Like he's known you forever, and knows you better than you do yourself.

Hansol makes everything so much more bearable.

Seungkwan should thank him.

Instead he says, "You're such a big dummy," around a mouth full of half-chewed bread, but he gives Hansol a small, shy smile and a shoulder bump.

From the way Hansol smiles back, Seungkwan knows he gets the message.


	6. Chapter 6

The following day, a Thursday, the boss gives them a day to rest.

"It's to prepare for the hell to come," their manager says once he's gathered them up in the dorm that morning, sounding very much sympathetic to their fatigue. "You'll be flying tomorrow, so they're letting you rest a bit. Once you touch down, you might not be able to rest until the shoot's over."

The overall reaction was that of relief, bunched-up shoulders sagging down, faces turning softer, less haunted.

Their thoughts are quiet murmurs in Seungkwan's brain. He could swear he hears Jihoon's thought process completely shut off once he bumps his head on Hansol's shoulder, and Seokmin's mind flare back to life when he jumps away from them in excitement. Soonyoung practically plummets onto the big couch and turns into the sleeping dead, and everyone scatters, moving at a sluggish pace.

There's no need expend energy, they all think, they need to recuperate.

Seungkwan thinks this is all fine and well, they do in fact need rest, but he can't help but think about the opportunities this will give the others when it comes to satisfying their curiosity about his talk with the CEO.

He dodges the first bullet by pleading exhaustion when Jeonghan and Junhui make a beeline for him. But then it's Seungcheol who says that they can talk later in the night as they pack their bags. His eyes pointedly single Seungkwan out when he mentions the words 'we all need a bit of rest after certain recent events', smiling tentatively like he doesn't know what being gay feels like.

Seungkwan doesn't meet anyone's eyes, but he nods, and then sets off to find the quietest corner of the dorm to formulate a plan while Seokmin and Chan takes everyone's grocery store orders.

The quiet place turns out to be his own room. Joshua has settled in, sprawled over his bed, eyes dancing over the set of choreography instructions taped against the wall across the room next to a poster of L.A.. Wonwoo is there too (instead of their other roommate) curling up like a cat at the edge of Seokmin's bed.

They were the only ones in the dorm not darting him questioning stares or actively seeking him out, so Seungkwan slips in and makes camp on the same bed Wonwoo's on, turning on the humidifier and trying to make himself inconspicuous under Seokmin's sheets.

Honestly, he's too tired to think, having been fed up with all the other thoughts getting in the way of his thinking space. He's done his best so far to tune those thoughts out, because as much as the mind-reading thing is an exciting and potentially powerful tool, he still wants to respect everyone's privacy. If their thoughts blare out, begging to be heard, then he doesn't have much of a choice but to register them, but as fuzzy noise in the background he usually ignores them.

He already decided that he's going to try and get to know more about his ability once preparations for their comeback are over and they're promoting in music shows. Once everything falls into routine, he'll have time to spare for the mind powers.

But for now, he wants to prepare himself for the coming onslaught of questions in light of recent events, and the possibility of rejection from one or two of his members once he's made things perfectly clear.

\--

He dozes off for a while, some twenty or so minutes passing, and then, he feels the bed dip and move. A few shuffles later, and he feels the warmth of Wonwoo's body radiating next to him.

He cracks open an eye.

Wonwoo's peering at him, biting his lip, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"Are you awake?" Wonwoo murmurs between them, his voice sounding like it usually does--like Lucifer's next to you telling you which child he possessed the other day.

Seungkwan shifts and lets out a quiet groan. "Not really. What do you want, hyung?"

Wonwoo pauses, holding back and casting his eyes down, and then turns to the ceiling lost in thought.

After a while, Seungkwan props himself up by the elbow, blinking blearily at him. He waits. Wonwoo looks like he's contemplating something, and Seungkwan can see his surface thoughts, allowing him a glimpse of emotions he didn't know Wonwoo felt. The thoughts are steeped with uncertainty and doubt, like Wonwoo's having an internal debate about choices. About what in particular, Seungkwan can't tell.

His arm gets tired eventually, his head falling back onto the pillow after a while. But he doesn't look away from Wonwoo.

"Did it help?" The question comes out of nowhere and few seconds pass.

"What?"

Wonwoo glances at him and shrugs. "Going to the boss' office? Did it help? Like ... did it make you feel better?"

Seungkwan feels blindsided by the question. He was already starting to feel upset that Wonwoo turned out to be just as curious as the rest, but then he was thinking that Wonwoo would ask about how things went or how the CEO took it. He's surprised to feel touched by the concern, but then a quick brush against Wonwoo's thoughts makes him realize that Wonwoo's asking more for himself than Seungkwan. Like he's asking for advice.

Seungkwan tries not to feel disgruntled.

Wonwoo's expectant eyes are locked on him, waiting. Seungkwan wants to say no, it's brought him more trouble than he could handle. But ... to the others he must look like someone who braved the lion's den, so to speak, and came out alive. They must see him as someone who's matured, someone to look up to. It's one of the burdens of lying about the whole thing, Seungkwan starts to realize, and it makes him feel horribly guilty.

He decides to shoulder the responsibility and play the part, for the moment, because he can't fess up. He can't. If he ends up helping Wonwoo out with whatever trouble he's facing, then he can throw his own credibility under the bus when the truth comes to light later.

"It's ... a weight off my chest, yes," he replies uneasily, not really meeting Wonwoo's eyes. "It's about ... being honest with myself, more than it was about telling others. And that makes me feel better, I guess. I didn't really like how it went down--I was practically cornered into it--but looking at it now, I guess I needed that push. The CEO didn't--doesn't, care what I am."

The lie makes his mouth go dry, but at the same time there's a certain truth to it, like it's what he would say if he were in fact gay.

Wonwoo processes this with a few slow, distracted nods. He then comes up with another question, and he blurts it out like it's nearly aborted. "Did--did you do it because of someone else?"

Seungkwan's eyes widen, but then he considers the question for a long moment.

"Kind of?" he shrugs. Technically, he did have a few people in mind. He did it to save Seungcheol's hide, and to take the burden of confessing away from Hansol, which kind of seems pointless now that he thinks about it--if CEO Han wanted a gay member so much, Seungkwan could have just flat out denied knowing anyone who was gay, and then approached Seungcheol later and convinced him to come out.  But he didn't know what the CEO's motives were, so here is now.

"Is it someone you like?"

"Wh-what?" Seungkwan splutters as Wonwoo grins widely.

"It is, isn't it?" Wonwoo looks smug. "A ha ha, so you like someone," Wonwoo teases, a finger snaking between them and poking Seungkwan in the ribs. "Who is it?"

Seungkwan shoves him away, and Wonwoo laughs. He sees it in Wonwoo's head, sees the face that popped up the second he responded to Wonwoo's question.

Hansol. Wonwoo's thinking about Hansol.

"Why are you guys always like this!?" Seungkwan complains, his face growing hot. "He's not--he's--you're going to make things weird again!"

They always teased him about it, ever since he and Hansol met all those years ago. Always brought it up whenever the two of them were next to each other. It started with Seungcheol, the constant teasing and ribbing, and no matter how many times Seungkwan told him to stop--it's getting old, don't be stupid, we're _friends,_ I hate him, he looks like a dweeb--Seungcheol persisted, until he got the rest of them doing it.

Seungkwan's excuses never seemed to address the fact that they were both boys.

It got bad for a while, during promotions in December. Hansol was all awkward and Seungkwan couldn't even look him in the eye or have a decent conversation with him. It made Seungkwan feel wretched.

They stopped teasing them after that.

And then things went back to normal, with the jokes and the eyebrow-waggling dying down.

Seungkwan feels dread start to pool in his stomach. He hasn't even considered how this whole gay revelation thing might just start the suggestive comments all over again.

Wonwoo stops, but his grin has settled into a knowing smirk, and Seungkwan narrows his eyes at him.

"Stop that," he orders, but Wonwoo doesn't.

Seungkwan turns around and faces the wall next to the bed, sulking. Not thinking about the meeting later but instead about a certain brown-eyed idiot.

\--

"So ... what's it like?"

Seungkwan goes bug-eyed as he stops folding his sleep clothes into a pile. The last person he expected to have questions was Mingyu. Mingyu, who's such a typical boy, evident when he shoves a handful of chips into his mouth and blinks at him with innocent eyes.

"What's what like?" Seungkwan says curtly, and then says, "Sorry. It's--I'm still getting used to everyone knowing."

He looks across the living room where Hansol's keeping two mischievous cretins from coming over to talk to him. Hansol's got Junhui and Jeonghan preoccupied with this game he made up where two people discuss who's prettier. Hansol glances back, rolling his eyes, and Seungkwan shoots him a grateful look.

Seungkwan's still reeling from the double-team rapid-fire harassment-slash-oppression, courtesy of Junhui and Jeonghan. He's heard every question from, 'Do you, like, check guys out all the time?' to 'Am I handsome by your standards? I heard guys have higher standards,' to 'What outfit should I bring to L.A.? Which one looks good?'

"You know ... liking guys?" Mingyu leans in and asks, just keeping it between them. "Is it ... good? Like, is it more exciting or fun?"

Seungkwan blinks at him suspiciously, because Mingyu's curiosity, it doesn't sound like your typical, 'I need to know 'cause I don't know, not because I want to know' curiosity.

Seungkwan is trying to look for the right words to say when Seungcheol plops down next to him and throws an arm around his shoulders. It's a normal enough gesture, Seungcheol does it all the time, except ...

Except it's not normal, because Seungcheol presses close to him, too close when he says, "I'm sure it's not that different from male and female relationships, Mingyu."

And when he says it, his voice is low and warm, turning his head slowly to share a smile with Seungkwan. He squeezes Seungkwan's shoulder ever so slightly, his thumb kneading a muscle there, and his breath ghosts against Seungkwan's ears. His eyes, they flicker down to Seungkwan's lips for like a millisecond, so fast that no one would be able to tell what the quick flutter of his long eyelashes means.

But Seungkwan knows. It comes to him quickly and jarringly, the meaning of the small, telling gestures. It hits him like a slap.

He breaks away from Seungcheol, face flaming.

And almost by instinct, like an unintentional reaction, his eyes snap to Hansol, dreading if Hansol's seen the whole thing.

Hansol's forgotten all about Junhui and Jeonghan and has gone hawk-eyed.

Seungkwan's eyes go back to Seungcheol, and the older boy blinks back at him innocently, though a hint of a smile is playing on his lips.

Mingyu's puzzled eyes switch back and forth between them, completely lost.

A tingling sensation crawls up Seungkwan's spine as the implication of Seungcheol's behavior sinks in.

And then, _then_ , a lone thought slips into his head, like warm butter.

It's him against a wall, trapped--

Or rather _caged_ in by Seungcheol's strong arms, with Seungcheol--

\--eyes hooded and lips parted--

\--leaning in, closer and closer, until his head is right next to Seungkwan's, and the warmth is radiating from Seungcheol's cheek like a furnace--

\--and his lips are hovering. Right. Over. Seungkwan's lips.

" _B-B-Bathroom! Need to pee!_ " Seungkwan squeaks, making everyone in the room jump as he shoots up from the floor and flees the scene.

He darts across the hall and then slips into the bathroom in a flash, nearly slamming the door behind him in his haste.

He leans against the door and refuses to move.

His mind is reeling, fast, stopping and starting and pausing and trying to finish one thought process after another, his heart beating like a startled rabbit's.

_What the--what the. What the what the what?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry this was late. I'm dealing with real life stuff too so the creative juices kind of run dry every now and then. Thank you for all the support you've given this fan fiction so far! I'll reply to comments this time if you leave any--comments motivate me a lot so they help in fueling this fanfic :D
> 
> Some stuff about me--my name's Michael, I'm in uni, I've been stanning Seventeen since Seventeen Project (I had no idea they existed before that TT TT), my bias is Seungkwan (and by extension his boyfriend), and also meanie couple. I also stan Minghao, Hoshi, and Coups, but seriously I love them all :) they're my stupid babies. I don't own any albums 'cause I'm ehem, economically weak, and my favorite Seventeen song is I Don't Know/Well.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish we were in L.A. already lol
> 
> But things happened :/
> 
> Also, better late than never? 5give me

All of them are waiting back while the manager explains to the handling agent at the check-in counter that he's flying thirteen boys to L.A. for a music video. A while ago they were swarmed at the entrance by fans, and wasn't that an experience? Seungkwan hasn't been out of the dorms since he's been able to get a glimpse of people's minds, and now that he's surrounded by hundreds of thoughts he's finding it hard to hold onto his sanity after being barraged by a tsunami of hormonal teenager fantasies.

It takes sheer willpower to block those kinds of thoughts out. For the moment, all Seungkwan wants to do is to focus on the comeback. He's not the kind of person who can switch to tunnel vision, like Minghao or Jihoon, but he can compartmentalize pretty well, although right then his mental capabilities are stretched so thin that it's practically transparent. He's trying not to think about the past few days, but sometimes people keep reminding him. People with scandalous, inappropriate thoughts.

"Seungkwan."

A hand falls on his shoulder, squeezing lightly, and he doesn't need to look back to know that it's Seungcheol. The man seems to be redoubling his efforts to instigate some form of contact with Seungkwan, evident when the next thing he says is, "Sit on the plane with me."

Seungkwan tries not to look tired as his gaze trails from the hand on his shoulder to the young man attached to it. Seungcheol's face is kind and hopeful, his eyes all warm and open. In some distant part of Seungkwan's brain, he gets how Seungcheol is widely considered to be one of the more persuasive members. He fits a shirt well and his eyelashes sweep down on his cheeks like tiny little feathers.

The request is innocuous enough, except, you know, Seungkwan can read minds, and he isn't too keen on giving Seungcheol any openings, seeing as he's currently not-so-subtly wondering about what sucking on Seungkwan's neck feels like.

Seungkwan doesn't react as violently as before, having mentally prepared himself the night before. Instead he issues Seungcheol a patient, albeit inauthentic smile. _Like hell I'll agree to be in close quarters with you for eight or so hours._

"Sorry, hyung. I already made arrangements. Isn't that right, Ver--"

He stretches his hand out, expecting Hansol to appear like a party trick.

Instead he inadvertently grabs onto Joshua.

"--er, Joshua?"

Joshua looks back and forth between them like a blissfully ignorant bug plucked by two birds from the underbrush, and even though he hasn't been paying attention to any conversation around him--he's too busy squinting at the itinerary for their schedule--he nods when Seungkwan sharpens his gaze.

"What he said." One of Joshua's brows inches up.

They hadn't made any arrangements. It's a standing tradition that Seungkwan and Hansol sit next to each other when traveling. But somehow, Hansol is at the other side of their cluster, talking, in English, to Mingyu, who's got a scrunched up face of concentration.

Hansol's the easy choice when it comes to plane rides. He doesn't complain much, and gives Seungkwan the choice to sit by the window or aisle. He hates airplane desserts, so Seungkwan can have second helpings of pudding or fruit jello. Seungkwan also tends to feed Hansol some of his own food whenever he quietly grumbles about hunger. Hansol's usually like that when trapped in a vehicle for more than an hour.

Also, as a bonus, Hansol hasn't thought about jumping him once. Which is good.

Then again, Seungkwan's never heard Hansol's thoughts, like, ever, since he started seeing into other people's heads.

Joshua on the other hand ... well, if he had to pick someone else, Joshua's the safest bet. The safest non-Hansol bet.

"Shame," Seungcheol looks unconvinced by this display. "I wanted to spend some time with you."

"Why?" Seungkwan asks flatly.

It'll be easier, he thinks, to deal with Seungcheol once he manages to get the guy to talk about his weird infatuation. Then Seungkwan wouldn't have to hint at the issue without actually addressing it, and he wouldn't have to tell the guy how he knows about those thoughts exactly. Better to be frank now than to make things complicated later on.

Seungcheol shrugs, but he smiles, almost shyly. It catches Seungkwan off-guard, that smile, and his face reddens despite himself. He has to admit that the attention Seungcheol's giving him is making him feel things. Dangerous, off-limits stuff.

For one, it's inflating his ego to dangerous proportions.

He tries to reason with himself.

_It makes sense, right? I mean, who wouldn't feel flattered in my position? I can't help it if someone crazy-attractive like Seungcheol--_

His thoughts come to a halt.

_I did not just think that.  
_

"So I need a reason to hang out with you now?" Seungcheol teases. "I don't know. You've gotten a lot more interesting lately."

Seungkwan shakes himself out of his traitorous thoughts to gawk at Seungcheol.

 _By interesting you mean fake gay._ Seungkwan doesn't say anything, but he tries to awkwardly smile back without looking like he's freaking out, because honestly, why is Seungcheol freaking coming onto him!?

It doesn't make _sense._

It's definitely a crisis of the most unexpected kind.

Once they start boarding the plane, Seungkwan clings to Joshua, using him as a human shield.

"You will protect me during the duration of this ride," Seungkwan hisses to the other boy with quiet desperation. "Sit by the aisle and you can pick all the movies we'll watch. I don't care if it's an arthropod documentary or one of those weird indie films about Jesuit priests."

Joshua eyes him, looking bewildered for a few seconds. "I don't know what's going on, but OK."

The group settles down--they're flying premium economy, because hey, they have tour money now, but not enough to fly business class--and the plane takes off the ground.

He and Joshua end up watching _X-Men: First Class_ , which is freaky coincidental considering his mind power situation. He keeps his mouth shut throughout the film, lest he accidentally says, 'Damn, I know how you feel, Charles.'

The members like to move around the cabin a lot, switching seats and generally being annoying antsy fuckers during the first thirty minutes. He's privy to the thoughts of the flight attendants, could hear how much of a nightmare they are to them. He tries to tell the others, when he can, to stay in their seats and behave like adults, but they still do it anyway. Not-so-subtly he pins Joshua down to his seat, making sure his seat belts are secure and everything, even though it's already belts off from there.

Seungkwan can't concentrate on the movie because he can hear everyone on their section of the plane, their nervous jumble of thoughts, their plans once they touch down in L.A., among many other things that a group of forty people can come up with when bored out of their minds.

It's slowly driving him crazy, because some people have seriously fucked-up sense of humor. He wishes there's an off-switch to the mind scan thing, and contemplates whether he can practice trying to toggle his mind to stop doing it during the rest of the L.A. trip.

An hour and a half in, and Joshua's finished lunch and an entire bottle of water.

"I'm going to the bathroom for a sec." Joshua makes a move to stand, and is walking down the aisle before Seungkwan can make a grab for him. His hand narrowly misses Joshua's wrist.

"Damn it," Seungkwan mutters. He regrets not telling Joshua to refrain from drinking anything for eight hours, because at that moment, a thought in his periphery intensifies, and he knows exactly who it belongs to.

Almost comically, his and Seungcheol's eyes meet from across the aisle, and Seungkwan pales. He _knows_ that Seungcheol's been waiting for an opening to steal Joshua's seat. Seungcheol makes a move to rise, and Seungkwan freezes, trying to come up with an excuse to stop Seungcheol from getting close.

_Shitshitshit, what do I--_

"Hey--are you gonna finish that?"

Seungkwan's gaze snaps up, surprised.

Hansol appears out of nowhere, ducking down and slipping into Joshua's seat without preamble. Without waiting for an answer, he plucks out a lone biscuit from Seungkwan's tray and takes a bite.

Seungkwan has to stare at him for a moment.

After a while, he says: "that was mine," without much bite. In his periphery, he can feel Seungcheol's disappointment. Seungkwan frowns, but he's relieved, terribly relieved, that Hansol is there.

"I thought you hated plane desserts."

Hansol gives him a look of incredulity. "What? That's dumb. I like prepackaged baked goods."

 _No you don't,_ Seungkwan thinks. Hansol opens his mouth to let Seungkwan see the mush inside, and Seungkwan grimaces. "Gross."

"Yum," Hansol retorts, the idiot, eyes glinting in amusement. He turns to the seat screen and squints. "What are we watching?"

Seungkwan's eyes soften, because it seems like Hansol isn't leaving anytime soon.

He hands him Joshua's earbud.

"It's X-Men. I don't know what's happening. I wasn't really paying attention."

"But you _have_ watched it, before, right?" Hansol inches a brow.

Seungkwan looks sheepish, and Hansol deadpans at him.

"OK, we have to start this movie again. Pay attention this time, because this is the only good X-Men reboot. The rest are cinematic bird turd. I hope you know who every character is, at least. I don't want to explain to you why the actors are different from the previous movies and stuff."

Hansol descends into a quiet rundown of what the premise of the movie is, and Seungkwan finds himself listening to Hansol's drawling voice, because it makes all the other thoughts around them dwindle into the background.

For the first time during the plane ride, Seungkwan's shoulders unwind.

They banter about the movie whenever they can. The plot, the powers, the actors. Seungkwan sneers at Jennifer Lawrence whenever she's on screen, and Hansol rolls his eyes at him, going onto a spiel about how Hollywood likes to make hating rising stars a trendy thing. It's so reminiscent of Korean show business, he says. Like how Hyeri or Seolhyun became popular and somehow it's OK to hate them after that, when really, they're not bad people. It makes sense when Hansol puts it that way, and he tries not to sneer after that.

Seungkwan fixes him a look. "So you like her?"

Hansol shrugs. "I don't hate her," he says, and then looks him in the eye. "But you gotta admit, she's pretty. And pretty good at delivering her lines." He looks back at the screen and shrugs again. "You get tired of her intense face of horror after a while, though. You see it in all her movies. Like in the _Hunger Games_. But like I said, why hate a person when they're just trying to make a living? She's nice enough. But I like actresses like Amy Adams more. And Michelle Williams. They get nominated all the time but you rarely see them win."

Seungkwan wants to watch more X-Men, but to prove his point, Hansol makes him watch _Arrival_ and _My Week With Marilyn_.

They turn out to be good movies. It surprises him how Hansol knows so much about these things, and how deeps his thought processes run sometimes. He expected them, but every now and then Hansol would say something incredibly profound or insightful, and Seungkwan would be awed. _Hansol really does think on a different level._

Their conversation becomes less frequent, though every now and then Hansol would say something about the movie, or Seungkwan would ask something trivial, and conversation would start back up again, drifting from one topic to the next. It's easy, talking to Hansol. He doesn't sound condescending or superior when he's trying to drive a point, and he doesn't outright dismiss the things Seungkwan believes to be true. He's open to a lot of things and has little to no stubborn bone in his body.

It comes as no surprise then, when they find themselves huddled together for warmth, quietly whispering or laughing to each other. At some point Hansol's scooted close. Seungkwan, feeling drowsy, lets his head on the curve of Hansol's shoulder. He can enjoy the movies properly now, the thoughts outside sounding like unintelligible white noise.

The closeness has Seungkwan thinking about Hansol, and everything that's happened in the previous weeks.

They don't talk about yesterday. Hansol isn't acting weird about it, and Seungkwan has no idea how to breach the topic of Hansol's behavior the day before. Seungkwan tries to forget about it. He's supposed to be immersed in the movie anyway.

But now he can't help but add two (Wonwoo's teasing) and two (Hansol's split second reaction to Seungcheol's advances) together. He can't help but read into everything.

Like how Hansol would tug on his sleeve and explain something on the screen, leaning into his space and tucking his head close to Seungkwan's. How he'd lay his head on Seungkwan's and just stare at the movie, or how he'd talk to Seungkwan quietly, in his low and easy voice.

At some point he talks about the members, like how he buttered up Soonyoung and coached Minghao on what to do, which eventually led to the addition of Minghao's little exhibition in the middle of the choreography of their song. How he talked to Seokmin and figured out that the guy is feeling overworked, and how he decided to take some of the workload off of Seokmin's shoulders.

Seungkwan is impressed that Hansol's taking his member duties seriously, but it also leaves him mystified as to why he's so keen on following Seungkwan's wishes from days ago. Why he stayed in CEO Han's office with him when he didn't have to be there. Why he was there on the rooftop with a loaf of bread when Seungkwan was miserable. Why he commandeered Joshua's seat and why he's pointedly not making a move to leave. Why he's working so hard when normally he doesn't put that much effort into doing things. Why it feels so safe and comfortable when he's around.

_You're reading too much into it._

_Stop it. Just enjoy the peace while it lasts._

He kind of hopes it lasts for a long time.

He falls into a lethargic daze that later devolves into sleep. The last thing he remembers is looking out from the plane window and seeing the orange hue of a sunset, and the feel of Hansol's shoulder as he breathes in and out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so nobody would point it out, in the fic I call Joshua, Joshua but Vernon, Hansol, because I don't know, it just feels right to me that Seungkwan thinks like that. Like he's closer to Hansol. And anyway, Joshua spent more years as an American anyway, so let's go with that.
> 
> Also, I feel like my writing seems rushed? I don't know. When I read it I feel like there aren't enough words in there fleshing a scene out. Please let me know if the pace is too quick.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! My apologies. There's this terrible, rampant disease called 'University' that I got afflicted by. I had to recover for three weeks or so. I'm fine now, don't worry :D. 
> 
> I had this in my drafts for weeks and I wanted it to be longer because you guys asked, but I really wanted it out before I got sick with 'University' again. So, here you go. Comments are appreciated in this house :)

"That's it. You're doing great." _Man, he's not very photogenic, is he?_

They’re in an apartment complex in the city, inside a rented studio that is empty save for a few pieces of furniture that the crew brought in, and they’ve begun shooting individual scenes for the music video. They’re shooting the first group of scenes early to capture that ethereal morning glow that the sunlight casts onto the city, and Seungkwan thinks that the staff is taking cruelty to a whole 'nother level, waking everyone up at five to prepare for work four hours later to experience this glow.

Seungkwan angles his face a certain way until the director's thoughts shift. _Oh. OK, that's better._

More than once he’s gotten praises from the director for taking direction brilliantly, if only because he can hear what he isn’t saying to him on top of what he actually tells him.

_He looks a little awkward in that pose._

Seungkwan drops his arm down and lets it dangle beside him, and the slope of his shoulders toward the camera makes his neck longer.

_Don't they usually sing while shooting these scenes?_

"Hey, um. Can I try that line one more time?" This time, Seungkwan takes in a lungful of air and sings from his chest the way he was trained to do. The notes come out of his throat perfectly, like he's just eaten their CD. The director's eyes widen.

 _He’s doing too much, he should dial it down._ He stops motioning with his arms and lets his eyes do the talking.

Seungkwan’s taking notes, and applying them to his performance, earning him full marks for being attentive, present, and engaging.

"You did great! You should take ten."

He takes pleasure in proving people wrong, but at the same time it really takes the energy out of him, having to adjust so much. Some of their scathing thoughts leave a foul taste in his mouth, making his throat constrict and his chest tighten, but Seungkwan always tries to treat the harsh critique like diving boards off of which he could leap.

It's hard to keep even a neutral face. Seungkwan unavoidably takes some of the comments personally. He can't help it—seeing his insecurities come to life in the heads of the people around him makes him want to hide in his room back at the hotel, to crawl in his sheets and let out his frustrations with a good cry. But that's not how professionals work. He tries his best not to let how upset he is distract him from his work, but it's taking a lot out of him. He keeps a weak smile on his face even though he's growing more and more miserable by the minute.

He’s in one of those folding chairs, trying to rest from shooting. He tries to steady his breathing. It isn’t getting any easier, dealing with the hidden insults and the blatant two-faced act most of the crew are pulling. But he’s trying to be mature about it by letting the thoughts slide off of him.

Maybe this power isn't all that it's cracked up to be.

“Hey, Seungkwan—can I talk to you for a second?”

For a brief moment Seungkwan tenses, a natural reaction to being pursued by their persistent leader the other night, but then he remembers that the hip-hop unit is filming elsewhere in the city. Joshua’s walks over to him, and his shoulders loosen as he turns to look at the older boy.

“Yeah, hey. Yes.” He tries to keep a chipper inflection in his voice despite the mental assault he’s had to endure most of the morning.

Joshua unfolds a chair right next to him and plops down. He scrutinizes Seungkwan for a moment, and Seungkwan fidgets under the attention.

“I was thinking, after all this is over, we should do something.” Joshua’s speaking in a hushed voice, his eyes glittering, and Seungkwan’s interest is piqued.

Joshua’s never the one to suggest an outing of any sort. Usually, Soonyoung or Seokmin end up being the ones who set up arrangements for good, clean fun. Going out to the movies. A food trip. An afternoon at the arcade. Sometimes it's Jeonghan and Junhui, who have a very different idea of what it means to let loose. Panty raids. Imbibing liquor. Setting up elaborate pranks. All of which get shut down immediately by one of the saner members.

“What did you have in mind?” Seungkwan raises an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Well, we could do something as a unit. Like, go out. You know how we’re supposed to shoot a reality show? Soonyoung and his gang are going to a dance studio. I was thinking—well, we could do something like that. For the reality show. But also, something else aside from that, away from the cameras. Something cool.”

Seungkwan isn't sure what constitutes as 'cool' in Joshua's eyes, so he shifts in his seat and leans closer. “I’m listening.”

“Well, I was thinking we could go to a bar, without a chaperone—“

Seungkwan snorts, loudly, and then blinks back. Joshua isn’t kidding. Seungkwan stares blankly at him. Joshua pauses too, but continues with a level stare when Seungkwan’s face turns apprehensive.

“We won’t be completely unsupervised. I mean, you have me for the language barrier and everything, and you’re coming along well with your studies in English—“

At this Seungkwan inflates a little, but his eyes are still doubtful.

“—and despite his reputation, Jeonghan’s quite the responsible adult—“

This time, Seungkwan lets out a chortle, but then shrugs and concedes. Jeonghan’s pretty childish, but he does have his moments. He’s nowhere near authoritative like Seungcheol—he’s more like the doting, caring mother who lets his children do whatever they want to keep them happy.

“—and if that doesn’t work, we can always rely on Jihoon to set us straight—“

Seungkwan considers it, thinks about how scary Jihoon is, and nods in agreement.

“Go on.”

“—and if anything goes horribly wrong then we can always turn to you! I mean, you’re pretty good at handling bad situations. Least, that's what I like to believe. And you’re very mature for your age.”

All this flattery is clouding his judgment, but doesn’t completely make him forget a few glaring problems.

“While the whole idea does have potential to be fun, we have to deal with a few things,” Seungkwan says. “First—I’m not legal to drink. _Most_ of us aren't legal to drink, now that I think about it. Second, hyung—“he gives the other an appalled look, “—you’re notorious for being pure and—to be honest—a stick in the mud. Your ‘drink water’ meme is like, the most well-known meme in the fandom.”

Joshua doesn’t seem to be offended by this. He throws his head back and laughs.

“Bro, that was because Samuel was the one singing the drinking line back then. I was trying to be a responsible idol.”

“I—OK, I get that. But now you have actual underage teenagers and alcohol.”

Joshua smirks, _smirks,_ and Seungkwan is impressed, and a little bewildered.

“Well, we’re in my hometown. I know a few people who can do something about that. Fake IDs and everything.”

Seungkwan almost forgets that Joshua lives in some suburban area somewhere near the city. He doesn’t really consider until now that Joshua might just know his way around the place like the back of his hand. He grew up around here, so surely he must know how the people around here operated.

It just—it completely takes Seungkwan aback, the idea that Joshua might know some not so desirable people, people who fake IDs and get underaged kids into bars. It’s kind of scary, and—loathe is he to admit—intriguing, to know that Joshua’s more than just the goody-two-shoes that people know him to be.

“And what about being recognized? I mean, I’m not trying to be presumptuous here but we _are_ kind of famous.”

"Wow, is it celebrity disease season? I think you need to go to a nurse."

Seungkwan gives him a flat look.

Joshua grins, and then switches to a thoughtful look. “It won’t be easy, but I think I know a place where people wouldn’t really know us or care that we’re idols out drinking.”

“It’s kind of dangerous, too.”

“We’ll plan ahead and make sure we get back to the hotel safely. I talked to one of the staff on the side and they owe me one—don’t ask how—but they’re keen on paying me back. You know that company rule about being transparent about our activities? If a staff member knows about our little night trip then we won’t really be breaking any rules. He'll take us back to the hotel at the right time without actually being there hovering over us.”

Seunkgwan purses his lips and hesitates.

"Minkyung drank when she was underage. It's not a big deal."

Seungkwan wonders what manner of torture Minkyung would put Joshua under if she ever hears him talking about her like that. He scrutinizes his hyung for a long moment.

“You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”

The older boy shrugs. “I kind of really want to break out of my shell while we’re still here in L.A. Back in Seoul, all the rules and cultural barriers—it’s stifling as hell.” Joshua smiles like he usually does, but there’s an uncharacteristically wicked streak to it that makes some alarm bells at the back of Seungkwan’s head go off.

“You just said ‘hell’. What’s gotten into you? Is this a parallel universe? Where’s the Joshua hyung who slaps people's wrists the second they start to swear?”

Joshua rolls his eyes. “Gee, Seungkwan. I don't know. Maybe he's on his knees dry-humping a pew in a church," he says dryly. "Seungkwan, I’m not _that_ lame.”

It’s odd, but Seungkwan kind of likes this different Joshua. He's cheeky and seems a lot more laid back. It's always a pleasant surprise whenever he discovers another layer to his hyungs.

“One more thing—why me? I mean, why are you pitching the idea to me and not, say, Jihoon?”

“Well, about that.” Joshua inclines his head and looks off to the side. Seungkwan follows his line of sight and finds—to his surprise—the rest of the vocal unit clustered together near the refreshment station, looking back at them with barely concealed anticipation.

“I kind of already talked to them. Jihoon, Jeonghan, Seokmin. They’re all pretty stoked. But they told me, specifically, that I have to get you to agree to the whole thing.”

Seungkwan looks flabbergasted. “ Me? Why?”

Joshua shrugs. “Because they think you’ll be the party pooper of the group. They really do think of you as the most responsible one.” Joshua ducks his head. "No offense."

“What?” He turns contemptuous and bitter—to them, he must be more of a prude than Joshua is, which is kind of insulting. Very insulting, actually. He’s a fun person! He's cool! Surely he can get freaky.

Maybe it’s the way he's taken charge of everything lately. Looking after the members, catering to their needs perfectly. Maybe with all the attentive things Seungkwan’s been doing, the members have come to think that he's some tight-ass mother figure.

"To be honest, we're also kind of worried about you," Joshua adds, and that makes Seungkwan do a double-take. "Ever since you, uh, came out, it's like you've been going out of your way to look perfect in front of everybody. Like you're scared we'd turn our backs on you if you make one little mistake. We won't, you know? We don't care if you mess up every now and then, and we certainly won't chalk that up to you being gay. Because that's ridiculous. You can't help that."

Seungkwan's eyes widen. He didn't know that the members thought that way, and he wasn't aware that he'd been compensating about it in front of everybody. It sounds ridiculous, but the more he thinks about it, the more it rings true. He'd been trying to make up for his fake gay-ness, or whatever you call it.

Maybe he does need to let loose a little. Maybe he needs to have fun. God knows he’s been thinking of everyone but himself lately. He deserves it, for putting up with so much shit over the past few weeks.

“Well, if you're absolutely sure it's gonna be fun,” Seungkwan says uncertainly. “I guess I'm in.”

Joshua grins and claps him on the back, before turning to the rest of the vocal unit and giving them a thumb’s up.

Seungkwan gapes when the rest of the boys rejoice by give each other high fives, beaming back at the two of them. Joshua shakes his head, and then waggles his eyebrows at him.

"Trust me. We'll make it a night we'll never forget."

\--

There are girls in the desert with them. Pretty girls with long flowing hair, slender figures, and bright smiles. They stare at the guys with stars in their eyes, and Junhui and Jeonghan aren't even being subtle about their interest by strutting around and making a display of themselves to impress them. Seungkwan is anticipating the moment when they finally sprout peacock feathers out of their asses to complete the look, but sadly it doesn't happen.

Oddly enough, Minghao drags Junhui away before he could make a fool out of himself, and all it takes for Jeonghan to stop is an offhand comment from Mingyu about armpit stains.

Hansol isn't spared from the attention, and Seungkwan for the life of him doesn't know why he's keeping his eye on Hansol like an apex predator.

"Yes! I love cheese on ramyeon!" one girl answers Hansol, who smiles shyly back at her.

_Of course, I'd much prefer eating the cheese off of you, Vernon. Oh, I wonder if I'll get to see him without that shirt on ..._

Seungkwan finds it unfortunate that he can understand thoughts in English perfectly, but is grateful nonetheless, because he now has concrete evidence that this girl is out to get some before the day ends. That doesn't sit well with him, doesn't sit well with him at all, not when she's staring at Hansol like he's a piece of meat and Hansol has no clue, no fucking clue at all, smiling like he actually likes this girl. Maybe. He doesn't know, because he hasn't been able to read Hansol's mind at all. It's infuriating.

 _She's pretty,_ Seungkwan admits begrudgingly. _There's no reason for Hansol not to feel attracted to her._

He steps into the conversation with a syrupy smile on his lips, unable to comprehend why his legs are moving or why he's about to stop the interaction.

"Vernonie, the manager wants to talk to you." He nudges his head over to the manager, who's actually standing there in case something scandalous or untoward happens between the members and the girls. Hansol cocks his head in confusion, before heading for the manager's direction. Seungkwan gives Hansol a smack on the ass before he goes, and then waggles his eyebrows at the girl, who looks put out that her prey for the day has slipped away.

_Trust the ugliest one to ruin my only chance._

Seungkwan's face turns to stone, and he scoffs, the sound catching the girl's attention.

"I'm not one to be forward, but," he shifts closer and ducks his head so that only she can hear what he's about to say. His lips curl into an evil smirk.

"The chances of you hooking up with Vernon?" He holds up a knuckle, curled into the shape of a zero.

Zero.

He takes pleasure in her shocked expression. "Sorry."

It isn't his best attempt at English, but he manages, sauntering away before he can hear the indignant squawking in the girl's head.

He can deal with the criticism later. It's not like it's the first time he's heard them. He ignores the pang in his chest. _It's nothing. Their opinions don't matter._

They shoot when the sun starts to drop from its peak. The heat beating down his back, the elaborate choreography, the focus it takes to convey emotion towards the camera, they all serve as a distraction from the thoughts that echo at the back of his head, all the little things that started to pile up the second they started this day. It helps him, in fact. He's never felt so present during a shoot.

A tear falls down his face every now and then, and it goes with the emotions of the song. He has time to rub them away during the short period they're given in between takes. If the others do notice, they don't say anything about it. But once they notice, they start shooting him looks and darting glances at him every now and then, their expressions confused and their thoughts filled with questions.

_Something's going on with him. What's going on with him?_

_He's crying. Is it the song? Is he acting?_

_He's usually so loud and bright ..._

_Seungkwanie ... what's going on?_

He isn't that exhausted. He can still muster up something to keep their worries at bay. So he does.

When the director yells cut, it's a wrap, Seungkwan beams at them and bounces. "Alright! Good job. Good job-eu."

Seungcheol's hand falls on his shoulder, and he looks up and answers before the question even pops up. "Hyung, did you like my acting? It was convincing, right?"

A look passes between them all, with Jeonghan casting him a doubtful look and Soonyoung outright frowning.

"Too convincing! I thought something was up," Chan chirps behind him.

"I didn't think you'd get so much emotion out of that song," Jihoon agrees, and Seungkwan doesn't need to read his mind to know that he's proud of himself for composing it.

"You sure?" Seungcheol insists. "It looked like you were about to break down for real."

Seungkwan shrugs his hand off, and then flashes Junhui a smile. "I've been taking cues from Juni-hyung's acting. Not too shabby, eh? All of you believed it."

They don't look convinced at all, their foreheads drawn together, but Seungkwan doesn't want them to push any further, because if they do, he's going to crumble, his mental faculties are all but spent, and the last thing he wants to happen is him bawling in the middle of a desert with the crew and extra watching, 'cause that would be so pathetic and lame--

"Hey." An arm slings around his neck and weighs him down, making him stumble a bit. Hansol shakes him a little, just a tiny squeeze of the shoulders. Hansol's other hand comes up to rub at his head until his hair is a mess.

Seungkwan feels instantly relieved.

"Did you really have to cry? The tears were a bit overboard, and they were long shots anyway so I don't think the director even got the shot."

Seungkwan shoots him an annoyed look and drives a finger through his ribs. Hansol jerks away with a big gummy grin, pulling Seungkwan with him.

"I don't see you trying to act all woebegone. And you had a closeup at the beginning, too. Such a wasted opportunity."

The rest of the members watch the exchange, but Hansol leads Seungkwan away from the rest of them, continuing with the banter.

"Don't need to. I just close my eyes and boom. Leo DiCaprio on screen."

Seungkwan snorts. "You're so full of yourself. You're like, DiCaprio's sister's cousin's neighbor at best."

"Shut up. Leo doesn't even have siblings."

"Prove it."

"Fine. Carry me to the bus and we'll use your phone."

"No."

"I'm tired, and I think one of the girls wants to eat me."

Seungkwan fights the tiny curl of his lips, but he can't help himself. "Oh, so you did notice. Thought for sure that you were gonna go for her."

Seungkwan notices as Hansol tenses slightly. "She's not my type. But I didn't want to upset her in the middle of filming."

The quick exchange is light and teasing, but once they're out of earshot, Hansol's expression darkens. Seungkwan's smile falls a little.

"We'll talk about the crying thing later." he says. He eyes Seungkwan critically, and then trains his gaze forward, towards the bus. Seungkwan tries to worm his way out of Hansol's grip but Hansol doesn't let him go. Before he can open his mouth to explain what happened, Hansol shoots him a sharp look.

"No buts," Hansol says, in a tone that brooks no argument. He sounds upset for some reason. His arm loops tighter around Seungkwan's neck, like he's making sure Seungkwan won't get away. Seungkwan closes his mouth, and furrows his eyebrows, because he doesn't understand Hansol at all.

More than anything, he wishes he could look into Hansol's head and see what he's thinking.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuckin' hell I never got back to this.
> 
> LOL I mean, let me start over.
> 
> Hello, my name is Michael, and today is my burthday, and I lobeu my carat readers. Do you know it? UWU
> 
> I got sucked into another dimension. Good news, my grades are flyyyyy, bad news, this story is DWC era and I'm waaaay behind.
> 
> So here's chapter nine. Hopefully a new chapter comes out this week.
> 
> Updated 6th January. IDK why the update time didn't change.

It takes a lot of smiling and joking around to hoodwink the rest of the members before Seungkwan could find some peace away from them.

It's nothing against them. It's just, twelve boys: it's pretty suffocating sometimes.

His hotel room isn't a perfect sanctuary--after all, Hansol's rooming with him for the duration of their stay, and the walls don't fully muffle the stray thoughts milling about the floor they're in, but Hansol gives him a wide berth as they wind down for the night, and Seungkwan appreciates the way Hansol doesn't prod him for answers. But the quick, furtive glances Hansol shoots his way every now and then makes Seungkwan feel guilty. He's not being honest with Hansol about what's bothering him, and the thought of lying to Hansol by omission is eating at him.

 _Tomorrow. Maybe I can tell him tomorrow,_ he thinks, as he slips into the bathroom away from Hansol's questioning gaze. He climbs into a shower stall, intent on washing away all the grime and dust his body had accumulated from the desert. _If only memories could be washed the same way._

Not for the first time he mulls over his mind-reading abilities, how the unsolicited opinions of people continued to rip through the recesses of his mind relentlessly. It's not healthy, being bombarded with so much criticism. It makes him feel like he's not good enough, no matter what he does. He used to have a lot of self-confidence before he got the power. That, or he was really good at compartmentalizing. It's hard to ignore the negativity when it's all streaming into his head without anything to stop them.

The shower takes a long time. He moves lethargically, running soap all over his body and letting the hot spray of water ease the tension in his neck and shoulders, waiting for it to soothe the aches in his body.

Once he turns the shower off, he hears the telltale sounds of distant muttering. It isn't in his head like he first thought, but at the other side of the bathroom door. Seungkwan's wet eyebrows draw together. He tiptoes out of the stall and dries himself quickly, wrapping himself up in a thick robe and then immediately pressing his ear to the door.

He knows that Hansol's talking to someone, though he can't hear much, but the voice seems to be lower, and once he realizes who the voice belongs to, the little switch in his head flips and the audio fine tunes, as if Seungkwan's turned the dial to the right station.

_I need Seungkwan. Aish, why is Vernonie being like this? It's not like I'm going to do anything bad, I mean, maybe, but nothing Seungkwan's uncomfortable with--_

But then the thought cuts off abruptly, like a plug being pulled on a radio. Seungkwan's eyebrows draw together in confusion. He's brought back to the reality of the steamy bathroom meeting the cold, air-conditioned hotel room through the door slit. Seungkwan peeks out, still bundled up in a bathrobe, and sees Hansol's hand on Seungcheol's shoulder. He's keeping their hyung at bay by the door. Seungkwan can't quite see his expression, but he's muttering something at the older boy, something along the lines of 'We're both really tired' and 'You should go back to your room and rest', but he isn't quite sure.

Seungkwan feels a swell of gratefulness in his chest, lips quirking. What did he do to deserve a friend like Hansol? He probably saved a country in his previous life.

Once the small commotion outside is over, Seungkwan pretends to be none-the-wiser, stepping out of the bathroom and plopping down on the bed face first. He groans in ecstasy because the sheets feel nice against his face, continuing on without acknowledging that Hansol startled at his presence.

"I heard you talking out here. Was someone here?" Seungkwan asks innocently, rolling over and fixing Hansol with a curious look.

"Seungcheol hyung," Hansol shrugs, surprising Seungkwan a little. He didn't expect Hansol to tell him the truth, but then again, Hansol's not like him at all--he doesn't hide things from his fellow members.

Seungkwan's eyes drop down to the floor for a moment, before peeking through his eyelashes. "Oh ... what did he want?"

Hansol's expression shifts, eyebrows rippling comically. Seungkwan raises an eyebrow back at him. It's funny how he used to be able to pinpoint Hansol's every emotion down to the tee, but now that he has this power, it's as if Hansol's become the most enigmatic person on Earth. Why doesn't his power work on Hansol? It's evident, by the way Hansol's mouth opens and closes and his eyes dart every which way, that he's racking his brains for something to say, but no thoughts filter out and into Seungkwan's consciousness. It frustrates and befuddles Seungkwan.

"He wanted to hang out and play," Hansol grimaces, which makes Seungkwan snort. "I told him we were tired."

"Good. I feel like my insides are blended flan at this point. God, I wish this hotel had a spa."

Hansol sits down on the opposite bed and fixes Seungkwan with a stare, his fingers closing around the fabric of the sheets and his shoulders bunching up below his ears. Seungkwan's insides tie together in knots, because he knows what's coming next, but he isn't sure if he can even satisfy Hansol's curiosity right now.

In the end, Hansol sighs, dropping his gaze, and then crawls towards his pillow by the end of the bed. Seungkwan feels guilt wash over him again, but he's glad, so so glad that Hansol doesn't press and prod like the other members. The warm feeling in his chest combined with the cold roiling in his stomach doesn't really go well together, so he's left feeling unsettled as he too crawls into bed properly.

"We have the day off tomorrow. What do you wanna do?" Hansol mumbles into his pillow. His hair has completely dried, having showered before Seungkwan, and is now a downy mop on his head, tufts of brown hair curling every which way. It makes him look like a fluffy dog. Seungkwan's fondness for Hansol rears its head and he yawns around a grin.

"I'm down for anything. I don't know." Seungkwan digs further down into the bed with his shoulder blades, looking for the perfect position to relax his body. "Since we can sleep in, I'm not too worried about being tired. So we can maybe go out tomorrow."

"Mmkay," Hansol replies, eyes already drooping. "We'll figure it out tomorrow. Maybe sneak out before the others could come with."

Seungkwan's answers with a small nod. He doesn't really question why the rest of the members can't come with them. Everyone knows that it's the norm, Seungkwan and Hansol going out together with just the two of them, especially when they're in a different place or country. Everybody knows they like to go exploring--Hansol likes taking pictures of new and exciting things without really uploading them anywhere, while Seungkwan leads and navigates, soaking in the new surroundings and seeing the world from another angle.

They usually walk together, shoulder to shoulder. Occasionally they would try out clothes, asking for the other's opinion before purchasing anything (because the two of them more than the others like to borrow each others' clothes) or buy each other drinks (tea for Seungkwan and anything bicarbonated for Hansol). For snacks, Hansol would steer clear from anything tomato unless it's pizza that's more cheese than dough, and any 'may contain traces of nuts' are immediately disregarded by Seungkwan in consideration for his friend.

Sometimes, when the conditions are perfect--cold weather, happy vibes, close proximity--Hansol's hand would hit the back of his own hand, and Seungkwan's fingers would slip into Hansol's palm.

Seungkwan doesn't know why he's thinking of all these things, but it makes him feel less depressed about the day that passed, and excited for the next. He drifts off to sleep, and dreams about Hansol in one of his hoodies, walking next to him along some colorful street.

\--

Seungkwan rolls his eyes at Hansol, who's holding a red and blue hoodie at arm's length, staring at it aggressively. With how serious he's taking the clothes shopping thing, you'd think his life depended on the decisions he's about to make.

_Is the hot boy actually thinking of buying that? It looks god awful. Then again, with a face like that, maybe he could pull it off._

Anyone who gets too close to them, Seungkwan hears their thoughts, like they're whispering very loudly into his ear. And like all unsolicited thoughts, they're annoying as hell. Seungkwan gives the lady nearby a stink eye, willing her to leave them alone. Why do salespeople hover so much? Pressuring your customers with your presence does not, in any way, increase your chances of making a sale.

After a beat, Hansol's eyes widen, like he's had an epiphany. His eyes lock in on Seungkwan and he nods once. "I'm gonna buy this. I feel like it's really me, you know?"

The hoodie looks like it belongs in the sleepwear section, in some thrift store where hobos and grannies purchase their daily apparel, but knowing Hansol he's going to be wearing it out in public like a weirdo. Seungkwan takes one look at Hansol's hopeful face and caves.

"I like it," Seungkwan shrugs. It's very Hansol, he has to admit. The wide-eyed boy grins back at him, and then throws the hoodie over his shoulder as he walks to the counter.

"You know what would go with that?" Seungkwan pauses to take a sip of some Masala chai latte.

"What?"

"Checkered pants."

Hansol looks at him all bright-eyed and sunny. "Holy crap, yes."

"You're going to look like a Pokémon trainer, but hey. That's kind of your whole wardrobe anyway."

Hansol's answering chuckle makes Seungkwan's lips quirk.

"See, this is why I take _you_ to these things," Hansol says quietly, like a humming engine, because he's never very loud when it's just Seungkwan. "When Hao tags along, he just looks at me like I'm some kind of train wreck. And I don't even shop with Jeonghan-hyung anymore after that one time he made a scene in an outlet store back home because, apparently, earth tones and neon, Vernonie? Really? Those don't jive together, ever!"

Seungkwan snorts at Hansol's poor Jeonghan impression. "Hey, maybe you could turn that into a lyric."

"Eh. Jeonghan-hyung would rag on me about it for days."

Over at the counter, Hansol's eyes dart around, fascinated by the odd bits and pieces of clothing adorning the walls of the clothing store they've ducked into at downtown LA, looking for all the world like an excited child with a strict upbringing, nervously vibrating in place but keeping still and loving every second of it. It feels good, hanging out with Hansol. He's always had this infectious vibe when it comes to his little quirks and interests, and the good energy is rubbing off on Seungkwan.

"I'm gonna take a look around the bins and see if I can dig up one of those pairs of pants, or something like it."

Hansol's hair flops on his face as he nods. "Maybe look for something we can both wear!"

Seungkwan's eyes travel up, exasperated but willing to indulge. He walks around while Hansol makes the purchase, going further into the big store, trying to peruse and see if anything weirder catches his eye.

He manages to hear a conversation off in his periphery, between some guy and a girl who's got her hands spread out in front of her, displaying her clothes.

"Okay," she says, eyes trained on the guy eagerly. "What's different about me?"

Seungkwan walks around them, one ear trained towards the two as he flips through a few clothes hanging on a rack.

_Shit, um. Okay. Uh, shit. What's different about her? Crap, is it her hair? No, idiot. We're in a clothing store. She obviously tried something on. Jesus, why didn't I pay attention?_

Seungkwan can hear her tapping her foot as she waits for an answer. He could practically feel the waves of dissatisfaction emanating from her. He sneaks a glance at the guy and can see him starting to lose himself to panic.

"Well?" she prompts, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. _Oh for God's sake. it's the damn skirt! If he can't figure this out, then a second date's off the table._

Like any good Samaritan with mind-reading abilities, Seungkwan sidesteps towards a circular rack stocked with different skirts, takes one, and holds it out from behind the girl so the guy could see. The guy's eyes dart quickly from the girl to Seungkwan, narrowing in suspicion. Seungkwan could see the split second it takes for him to come to a decision to trust a stranger.

"It's ... the skirt, isn't it?" he looks back and answers, voice lilting in uncertainty. He's already wincing, expecting to be wrong about his answer.

 _Oh my God, he got it right!_ The girl breaks into a smile, bouncing towards her date and throwing her arms around his neck. The guy is equal parts relieved and confused, eyes widened in disbelief as he peers around the girl's hair at Seungkwan.

He gives the guy a sly thumb's up before scampering off.

He just played wingman to an American stranger! Seungkwan smiles, feeling satisfied with himself. It's a stupid thing, he just helped some guy out with some lady trouble, but his power came in useful for once, and not just for his own personal gain. Sure, he might have doomed some girl to an inattentive future boyfriend, but hey! He helped do that.

With great power comes great responsibility. That's what Spider-man always said in like, every movie ever made about him. Seungkwan thinks about it now, as he's digging aimlessly through a rummage pile for some jammies. What if he could use this power to somehow make the world a better place? He didn't need a dead uncle for the motivation. Like, he's a good guy, he works hard, loves his parents, doesn't swear unless he's absolutely pissed.

But what can he even do with this power? If he thinks about it, Seungkwan can only come up with awful things to do with it, like blackmailing someone with their secrets or using the power as an unfair advantage in sports or games.

It would be a lot useful in a world where he had enemies, but this is the real world--he's an idol for God's sake. He's not going to offer himself to the government to be used as a secret weapon. He would be manipulated and used against other countries for sure, just like in the movies. It doesn't help either that he can somehow understand perfectly the thought processes of foreigners when he hasn't even fully grasped their language yet.

And the government might experiment on his brain or ship him off somewhere dangerous or something. He's no lab rat or super spy. He's just an idol.

He stretches out a piece of clothing in his hands, only half paying attention to what he's doing. Why was he the one who got this power in the first place? Why not someone who had more reason to use it?

_Oh my God it's him. It'shimit'shimit'shim !!!_

The thought slams into him like a wrecking ball, making him lose focus and sway a little. What the hell? He forces his eyes shut and tries to regain his balance.

_Seungkwan, Boo, oh my God, I'm so lucky. Shit, I have to call Vernice. And Kylie's just around the corner, oh God, if he's here, that must mean Vernon is too._

Seungkwan could already tell, through the somehow high-pitched, squealing string of thoughts, that this girl means trouble.

_I need to text EVERYONE. Come here ASAP._

Out of the corner of his eye he can see her, hiding behind a pillar and punching numbers on a smart phone. Not good. There's a string of images already forming in his mind, of nasty little scenarios that fangirls fantasize about when thinking about their favorite idols. This girl, she's definitely not as innocent as she looks. A chill runs down Seungkwan's spine at the thought of many others like her crowding around them.

He drops the garment in his hands and walks back to the counter as naturally as he can, back to Hansol who's only just paid for the hoodie and is looking at another piece of clothing nearby, completely unaware of what's happening. Seungkwan tugs at his sleeve to get his attention and starts pulling him towards the exit. Hansol's knocked out of his reverie and fixes Seungkwan with a bewildered look.

"What the--hey! I was thinking of getting that!" Hansol pouts like a petulant child, but doesn't resist as they stumble out into the busy street.

Seungkwan ducks his head and whispers, "Vernonie, there's a sasaeng in there. And she's calling reinforcements. We need to be out of this area quick." He nudges his head at the girl who walks out of the store after them, completely innocent-looking and unassuming. Hansol glances at her and then raises an eyebrow at him.

"How do you even know that?" he asks, suspicion lacing his voice. "Maybe she's just a fan who wants like, a picture or an autograph?"

Seungkwan ignores the pulsing in his brain that signals several other thoughts trying to vie for his attention. Why are there suddenly so many people around? Is there an event nearby or something? He scrunches his face as an ache starts to bloom in his head, steeling himself before tugging at Hansol's sleeve again. They need to get out of here. The river of thoughts through the street is overwhelming him, like he's fighting to keep his head afloat through a current of static.

Hansol pokes him on the side, and then knits his eyebrows worriedly. "Seungkwan?"

"Let's just go," Seungkwan grits out. His grip on Hansol's sleeve is tight, his knuckle turning white. He winces when another thought pierces through him like a spear.

_OH MY GOD IT'S SEVENTEEN. GEMIMAH WAS RIGHT!_

"Shit," Seungkwan loses his cool for a second, and then, still pulling Hansol along, he breaks into a run.

Not surprisingly, he hears them give chase behind him, hears them thirsting in their heads like slavering hyenas in cute outfits. He throws Hansol a look that says 'I told you so', and Hansol looks even more shell-shocked as they dodge pedestrians through street after street.

"How do we lose them?" Seungkwan throws a look back at their pursuers. They don't even care about being subtle anymore.

"This is dumb," Hansol points out, sprinting along without so much as panic in his voice. "We're supposed to be taking a break today."

"Nevermind that! We're literally being chased by madwomen!"

"I know that," Hansol rolls his eyes--not an easy feat while fleeing--and then takes the lead, grabbing Seungkwan's wrist and then turning a corner into an even busier street. The thoughts in his head dim a little, but they surge in intensity, and it feels like ants in his brain, fire ants, the kind that sting like a bitch, and Seungkwan kind of lets out a low cry as his brain pulsates in his skull. But he keeps on running, letting Hansol guide him, not even protesting when he shoves the both of them into a conveniently dark alley with a dumpster behind which they can hide.

"After them!" One girl yells as she completely misses their hiding spot, sprinting past the alleyway. Seungkwan could see Hansol's eyes boggle when a group of ten or so girls stream after her.

"Christ," Hansol breathes, crouching in front of him and looking disgustingly put-together, goddamnit. They just did a hundred meter sprint ISAC style and yet Hansol still looks like he could be in a sports magazine. Seungkwan curses under his breath again. That, along with the intense voices in his head, makes him want to vomit. He probably looks like a cat drenched with syrup at the moment, with the sweat matting his hair onto his forehead.

"Fuck," Seungkwan says, as the pain radiates.

"Seungkwan," Hansol pulls back, wide-eyed. "You just swore."

"No shit, Einstein," Seungkwan grips at Hansol's sleeves and lets out a gasp, his eyes forced shut as he tries to ride out the wave. "Did anyone ever tell you you--you say motherfucker on stage when you're allowed to?" It isn't stopping--the thoughts stream into him like a busted water pipe spewing out cold water, and he's trying to fight it, but it's getting too much. Seungkwan's whole body locks, and his senses start swimming and mixing together into one confused mess.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Hansol narrows his eyes worriedly, scanning him for any injuries. "Dude, you're freaking me out."

"I don't know. Heat stroke, maybe?" He can't tell Hansol, he just _can't,_ he wouldn't understand--

"It's cold out today. Seungkwan--"

"Panic attack?" Hansol's only gonna think he's nuts, it's not the time or place, not to mention the stupidest situation, too, but shit, it hurts, and he doesn't know what to do--

Seungkwan gets the air knocked out of him suddenly when Hansol tugs him forward, straight into his chest. There are arms around him, a hand soothing his back, another carding through his hair gently, and Seungkwan is assaulted by the distinct smell of Hansol's cologne and scent.

"It's okay," Hansol murmurs next to his ear. His hair tickles Seungkwan's cheek. "Hey--it's okay. They're gone. We're good."

And then the thoughts, the many jumbled pieces of words and conversations that felt like millions of demons in his head, die out. They just suffuse, dispersing into the air like wisps of smoke, and they're gone. Seungkwan can hear the cars again, and the distant, less bothersome chattering of people passing by outside in the street. It's like putting a lid on the Pandora's box that's Seungkwan's curse.

There's no question about it. Hansol can stop the thoughts from going in. He can stop them, like he's got a power of his own.

Seungkwan lets out a small sob. Hansol takes this a sign to tighten his embrace.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #HAPPYBOODAY  
> YES I PLANNED TO POST A CHAPTER ON HIS BIRTHDAY  
> of course I wanted this to be longer but it's almost 2AM and It's the first day of class tomorrow.  
> BUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEUNGKWAN  
> lol imagine him reading this HAHAHA he'd flip out, like this crazy fanboy decided to post a chapter on his birthday  
> DID YOU GUYS SEE VERKWAN ON ISAC THAT WAS TOO LOVEY DOVEY CUTE VERKWAN IS SO POWERFUL  
> especially when Vernon called Seungkwan out so that carats can sing happy birthday to him  
> WHAT A SUPPORTIVE BOYFRIEND  
> ANYWAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOO  
> this is dedicated to Boo Seungkwan of Seventeen, posted on his birthday  
> (EVEN THOUGH AO3 SAYS IT ISN'T HIS BIRTHDAY YET--KOREAN TIME AO3, KOREAN TIME)

"Does this outfit make me look bigger? Be honest. I need you to be brutal."

Seungkwan gives Jeonghan a soulless stare. Jeonghan looks aristocratic as ever, deciding to don a white print shirt of an astronaut, black pants that look vacuum-sealed, and dark boots that add an inch or two to his height. And with the thin beige bomber jacket, his shoulders become even more eye-catching, contrasting nicely with his blond hair. No it does not make him look fat, it turns him into a runway model straight from Milan.

Seungkwan communicates as much, making Jeonghan pout in uncertainty. He spends a couple of minutes trying to convince the guy that he can wear whichever jacket he wants to because either way, it's probably going to be sweltering in the club they're going to and he's going to want to take it off once he starts dancing anyway.

"You sure? Prove it. Prove that I look hot in this."

"Oh my God." Seungkwan's eyelids flicker in exasperation.

Jeonghan's that one friend of Seungkwan's who always inadvertently rubs it in Seungkwan's face that he's leagues better-looking. Jeonghan's a darling though, and he can't help it that he's a literal angel.

"Well, OK. One, I have eyes, and two, I know how to use them, so."  Seungkwan throws his hands up and struts out of the room, with Jeonghan closing the door behind them as they make their way to the others.

He still can't believe that they're going to a club. He thought that it was just a casual suggestion for an outing, nothing set in stone, but apparently Joshua has had everything arranged already, from the manager in cahoots with them to their schedule, to their strangely coordinated outfits.

It's freaking him out a little bit, because this Joshua, standing in front of him right now in their hotel lobby, is so far removed from the hyung he knows, the one who's saint-like when it comes to both manner and dress. A perfect, pure gentleman.

Now Joshua's got some guyliner on and Seungkwan could swear he could trace in the dim light the sweeping line of Joshua's spine through his shirt's mesh back. It's like watching one of those occult detective movies where the angel sheds his pure image and turns into a freaking bad-ass to seduce the protagonist.

It's sinfully alluring is what it is, and oddly enough this is what makes Seungkwan question his sexuality on a more carnal level for the first time. And it's _Joshua Hong, Jesus Christ._

"You ready to get lit?" Joshua greets them, pulling Jeonghan into a smooth hug, hands slipping around Jeonghan's waist. He smirks at Seungkwan over Jeonghan's shoulder and then throws him a wink, which blindsides Seungkwan. _Did that just happen?_

Seungkwan feels horribly underdressed somehow, because looking past Shua, Seokmin's got no sleeves, his guns out, and his hair is pushed back. He doesn't look at all like his sunny old self. Woozi on the other hand is wearing all black, looking like an extra--scratch that--a main character in some dystopian light novel. In conclusion: they all look incredibly hot, weather notwithstanding, while Seungkwan feels a little overshadowed, because he's wearing a dark red, long-sleeved shirt that swims on him more than clings, and some regular dark jeans.

"Remember guys, we're all twenty-one. It's pretty convincing until we get to Woozi--"a dark look passes through Jihoon's expression, though he doesn't snap at Joshua who placates him with a smile--"but he knows how to handle anyone who tries to question that. So, let's go!"

Seungkwan tries to get over his nervousness as they all file into a van by scanning their thoughts.

Jihoon's thoughts occupy him for a while, because even though he's the quietest of them all, his thoughts are going a mile a minute, going over everything from his own nervousness, to his slight irritation at everything, to his overall acceptance of what's happening. Though he looks like a sourpuss most of the time, Seungkwan feels warmth bubble in his chest when Jihoon smiles quietly--his thoughts are on the vocal team, and how his favorite members have always been the four of them. They lock eyes for a moment, and Seungkwan grins at him. Jihoon rolls his eyes and turns back to Seokmin, who's going into detail about how he's going to impress everyone with the much-anticipated debut of his strong, manly biceps.

At some point Jeonghan plugs his phone into the car sound system and they all start playing Jihoon's latest mixes, which Jeonghan insisted he bring with them. Even Jihoon isn't immune to Jeonghan's charm, agreeing to the whole deal, and soon they're jamming to some [remix of Chuck with Pristin's Tina](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xvJeBpLbQcA), which is, in a word, genius. It's not out yet, the song, but Jihoon managed to get his hands on Yehana's demo copy, and the two songs marry into an incredible mashup.

Seungkwan's still a bit tense and tight around the shoulders, and he can pinpoint the exact moment that Joshua notices this. Joshua sidles up to him and hands him something that looks like a bottle.

"Your turn," Joshua whispers sweetly into his ears, body pressing close, and Seungkwan's eyes boggle.

"What is--is this a, is this a _flask of alcohol_?" Bewildered, Seungkwan holds the flask by the very tips of his thumb and index fingers, eyes looking doubtful. Joshua slings a loose arm around his neck and laughs.

"You've been so out of it that you didn't notice me passing it around? Seungkwan, if you want to relax before we enter the scene, you've got to have a little juice in your system."

Seungkwan peers into the flask suspiciously, questioning the sense of what they're all doing. The very essence of the River Styx seems to emanate from the flask opening, and his nose wrinkles involuntarily. And then--because Joshua's gaze is half-hopeful and half-challenging--he puts the rim on his lips and takes a few straight gulps.

He realizes his mistake a beat later, because apparently _you're only supposed to take a sip,_ says Joshua's amused thoughts, and Seungkwan's coughing, the first inhalation of air after drinkingthe contents feeling like acid in his lungs.

" _Oh My God,_ was that cold bleach I just drank?" Seungkwan groans, face twisting into a grimace and his hand rubbing against his neck. Joshua throws his head back, chuckling loudly, and the others laugh with him, noticing what Seungkwan is holding. The drink seems to be a mixture of ten different household cleaning products with a side of lemon juice, and it kind of makes Seungkwan want to jump out of the car window. It coils in his stomach like a searing snake, the warmth radiating from his core towards his extremities. _Joshua's right--it's making me feel fuzzy and weird and ... and loose._

With all the noise they're making, it's a miracle that manager-noona hasn't murdered them yet, but the distractions inside the car almost make Seungkwan forget where they're going, that is, until they actually arrive.

It's not an upscale club, Seungkwan notes. He half-expected it to have a red carpet with flashing lights and photographers. But then he remembers, they're not supposed to be celebrities tonight, just adults trying to escape reality for a night. It has a parking lot too, which is weird, because don't clubs usually discourage driving afterwards? But Seungkwan doesn't question it out loud, because they're all jumping out of the van and pumping themselves up as they walk across the street to the club entrance.

Seokmin's hand falls on Jeonghan's shoulder and he says, all serious, "you're not allowed to join the 'which of us will get the most numbers' game, Jeonghan-hyung. It's obvious, you'll win."

"Fine, fine," Jeonghan agrees, ever gracious in accepting the compliments. "I'll officiate, then. My money's on Shua because his looks are almost on par with mine tonight."

"Aw, that's nice, Jeonghan. But knowing what Jihoon's prepared, you're gonna wanna think it through." Joshua throws Jihoon a knowing smile, and Jihoon snorts, but doesn't say anything else. Jeonghan then skips forward and slings an arm around Jihoon, badgering him about what he has in store for all the club-goers.

The entrance to the club has a large, burly bouncer who casts them a glance and then trains his eyes straight forward, not paying them any mind. Seungkwan is left dumbfounded as they go through a dark hall. He thought that they were at least going to be asked identification, but apparently Joshua's taken care of that, too. The notion scares him a little, because there's so much that Joshua is hiding from the rest of them about his life in L.A.. How was he able to plan any of this? Is he some secret celebrity mafia member? Does he have ties to the underground?

Seungkwan doesn't dwell on it for long, because the walls start thumping with the sound of a distant bass, and with each step it hits louder and louder, building and rising with Seungkwan's anticipation, until they slip through a series of beaded curtains that leads into a the riveting scene before him.

It isn't just any club, no. It's an all-out rager. The music pulsates through him in waves, his ears quickly trying to adjust, and the lights, all purples and blues and reds, flicker wildly. The people are jumping to the beat as though they're in a concert, and the energy of the whole place makes it seem like the world is ending outside and this is the last night they're ever gonna get before the world turns to shit.

"Oh my God," Seungkwan mouths at Seokmin, who's grinning from ear to ear, his head already bobbing as they snake through the crowd.

"I know," Seokmin mouths back. "This place is wild!"

Joshua's in the lead, and he walks through the crowd as if he owns the place, never missing a step or bumping into anyone. It's positively eerie, watching him. In another world, Joshua would be walking timidly, making sure not to collide with anyone and bowing slightly in apology if he does. This Joshua is someone else, and not-Joshua is messing with Seungkwan's head.

Speaking of his head, Seungkwan belatedly realizes that the thoughts drifting into his brain aren't as irritating as he thought they would be. When two days prior the thoughts almost made him faint, right then in the club they're lost words in a sea of raging music. They mix with the conversations happening all around them, and if Seungkwan doesn't pay the thoughts any mind, it all just seems like background talk.

_Well, you did stick to Vernonie all day yesterday while filming. Maybe that's what caused it._

Hansol had been too indulgent, not saying anything or complaining when Seungkwan hung off of him like a wet towel all day. It was a huge relief, having Hansol for a crutch, but he also felt burdened still, because he still hasn't told Hansol what was happening to him. But Hansol had been so nice about it, rubbing his back or keeping him close by himself, that it dulled the guilt a little bit.

He tries not to think too much about that day, because whenever he and Hansol would detach for any period of time, the thoughts would creep back into his head like little imps and wreak havoc. He doesn't even want to go into what the members were thinking (yes, they were thinking about how close he and Hansol were that day, even thinking weird, crazy thoughts that involved mushy stuff that makes Seungkwan's stomach flip whenever he thinks about it, so no, he won't think about his damn members' thoughts at all.)

Instead he comes back to the present, where they're all sitting on high chairs around a circular table in the middle of the crowd. It's exhilarating, because Seungkwan's never been to a club before, and everyone seems so eager to dance the night away that the dance craze is infecting even him.

The first round of drinks come, a set of different glasses of different heights, containing assorted colors, decorations, and alcohol intensities. It's Joshua who assigns them each a drink, and Seungkwan probes his head in suspicion because he thinks that Joshua is out to get him plastered tonight. When he finds nothing but good intentions in Joshua's head, he sighs and then drinks a few mouthfuls, luxuriating in the fact that their days in L.A. are almost finished, with the comeback MV well and truly shot from start to finish. They can enjoy themselves now, let loose, and maybe Seungkwan can finally give his newly found powers some attention.

Seokmin slams his drink down and hisses happily, before turning to Seungkwan and grinning deviously.

"So, Seungkwannie," Seokmin hollered, seeing as the music and noise in the whole venue was a few decibels short of an airplane taking off. "What's up with you and Vernonie?"

Seungkwan reels back and gives Seokmin a flummoxed look. "What did you say?"

"I said, what's up with youuu, and Vernon? Ever since you came out, you've kind of been all over each other." Seokmin waggles his eyebrows at him, completely unsubtle about his suggestion. Seungkwan's face grows even more bewildered by the second, and he turns to the other members for help. But there's no saving him, because Jeonghan's a few feet away, dancing with Joshua and enticing every pair of lust-filled eyes within a ten feet radius, while Jihoon is nowhere to be seen.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Seungkwan yells back, ducking his head and staring intently at the straw in his drink. Seokmin nudges him a little too forcefully, and then wraps an arm around him, hugging him tight.

"Oh, please! We get it! It's OK, Seungkwan! We love you both. We don't care if you're like, a couple or anything. It's actually pretty cute!"

"But we're not a couple!" Seungkwan complains, his cheeks feeling hot. The drinks are probably getting to him, is the thing. Alcohol makes people go red and feel hot.

"Sure you aren't!" _Ah, classic idol response to dating rumors. So cute._

"We're not!" Seungkwan insists, poking Seokmin in the ribs. Seokmin laughs, and pulls Seungkwan towards the dance floor.

"C'mon, show me your moves Boo Seungkwan!" Seokmin yells, and Seungkwan is sucked into the mess that is the club dance floor.

That's when Highlight seamlessly fades in as the last track dies out, and his and Seokmin's eyes immediately go to the stage, where the DJ is. Except, the DJ isn't really there and the disc-jockeying for the crowd. Instead, he's beside Jihoon, watching in awe as the small blond boy in black sets fire to the turn table.

The crowd goes into a frenzy. They cheer for Jihoon as the music starts to crescendo. Seungkwan fears that they'll punch a hole into the center of the Earth with all the bouncing they're doing, but this is too cool, too awesome. Their performance unit's song is playing in a club, all steroid-injected and jacked up into a remix. Seungkwan looks on, grinning like an idiot as Jeonghan flails wildly and Joshua laughs, and Seokmin does a jig that would put any dad at a barbecue to shame. Seungkwan dances along, feeling the beat, and he's never felt this exhilarated and free. He locks eyes with Joshua, who smiles brilliantly at him, and reads in his head, _this is all for you, Seungkwanie. I hope you feel better._

Seungkwan chokes with emotion, but is too happy to cry. Instead, he completely lets go of his inhibitions and hollers and sings 'Highlight' while the rest of the club careens into a new high.

\--

"I'm going to pee!" Seungkwan cries again, after Jeonghan giggles and asks him, "What did you say?", stumbling but not completely crashing into the nearest person as he leaves the table and makes a swervy curve to the bathrooms. It's kind of silly, how drunk he is. The colors of the huge dance hall all mesh together like a kaleidoscope, and the people's faces are blurred, but he's alright, he tells himself, he can still keep up with everyone.

It's been a wild night so far, he thinks woozily. Jihoon's danced with a lot of strangers, being basically known as a DJ-ing god after his stunt on stage. _He's going to win the phone number game for sure,_ he thinks absentmindedly as he stumbles through the crowd and finally reaches the hall where the bathrooms are located.

He thinks about how happy the members are, how exciting and fun going out and clubbing is, his smile making his cheeks hurt. He's got a headache sure, and the thoughts in his head grow in intensity every now and then, but he's the last person to ruin this night now, after finding out that Joshua's planned this all for him.

He mulls over everything that has happened so far since he came to L.A. while relieving himself in a urinal. It's crazy how shitty everything started out, but how nicely everything seems to be ending. He's only ever had noonas his entire life, so it was nice to feel that the hyungs are looking after him. Everything felt so nice and good, it makes Seungkwan bubble with emotion. Even Hansol, precious, handsome, considerate Hansol, has been too wonderful. Just thinking about the boy made his head swim further and his heart skip a beat. _Vernonie, Vernonie, Vernonie,_ his chest thumps. Seungkwan giggles. _It's the alcohol. It's making you feel fluffy things. Like Vernon. Sweet, wonderful, caring Vernon._

 _"_ I love him so much. _"_

Seungkwan giggles again, and then, when his mind has caught on to what he just said, he blinks, and his smile slowly dies down.

He laughs to himself nervously after a moment, and then zips himself up, going to the sinks. "Stupid. Don't say things like that." He bites his lip and stares at himself in the mirror. He looks OK, just terribly flushed and fuzzy, but he's OK. It's just, he just said something out loud that he doesn't think he's ever gonna say if he isn't drunk.

Just thinking about Hansol and love sets his face aflame. His face flushes red hot now, just thinking about Hansol's stupid face. All high cheeks and sharp jaw, tousled blond hair, megawatt grin that's thirty percent gums and a hundred percent charming and gorgeous.

_Oh, God, I'm going insane. Boo Seungkwan, it's the alcohol! Alcohol makes people think and say stupid things._

He slaps his cheeks with both his hands and shakes his head furiously. "Get it together, Seungkwan. You're drunk."

And then two people burst into the bathroom and he jumps. Then his eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when he sees that it's Joshua.

Joshua, his hand in some guy's hair and his other hand down the back of his pants, his body rolling insistently against the other, and his lips--

His lips nipping and grazing and full-out kissing this _GUY._

Joshua lets out a moan that gets lost in the guy's mouth.

Seungkwan is out of the bathroom like a bat out of hell.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEVENTEEN CAME BACK TODAY WITH THANKS!  
> STREAM IT GO!
> 
> It's uncanny how I started writing Joshua like this and suddenly a demon possesses him in Caratland. Like, right? He flipped the fck out like what the hell.
> 
> Joshua stans collect your man.
> 
> As for this chapter, I have to admit that I'm not happy--like, the way my process goes, I sit down for maybe a week, and sporadically write whenever the muse hits. Sometimes I'm on a roll and sometimes I'm not, and this chapter feels like it could be better. When I finish writing a chapter I just look through it a bunch of times, change a few words and sentences, and then press 'Post'. I don't have a beta reader, and I feel like having one would improve my writing so much.
> 
> So, if any of you are interested, tell me in the comments and I'll maybe leave a note in your inbox. I really want to be a better writer. Y'all don't know how many nights I spend not sleeping, just rolling around in frustration because I can't give readers enough quality. I wanna be good, like the other fanfiction writers in this website.

Seungkwan snatches a glass from this drunk girl who showers him with compliments on the way out, thanking her because drunk girls are nice and must be protected from getting any more wasted. He downs the drink, whatever it is, the liquid burning a path down his throat.

He then plasters himself against a far wall and tries to drown out the cacophony of sound slamming against him from the raucous club.

It's funny, he's not freaking out or throwing a fit or whatever, but his heart is working a mile a minute and he's blinking like someone's blowing at his eyes, which makes him feel like he's overreacting. Is being catatonic overreacting? He doesn't know. His head is pounding, from the alcohol, from the adrenaline of the club, from the voices in his head, and from the very real, very vivid image of Joshua rolling his hips forward with each passionate kiss and oh my God he should stop thinking about it.

But he can't stop because it makes him feel weird, like weird in a good way, which feels bad but, like, feels really really good. For someone who's completely sloshed, he's managed to record each and every detail of that ordeal in his memory bank. He replays it over and over in his head. There's something about seeing your hyung--your seemingly upstanding, well-behaved, _pure_ hyung--make out with another guy that just makes you feel so wild and ... and _dirty._

In a good way.

Really good.

Fuck.

_It feels good, so it must be good, right?_

Seungkwan shifts uncomfortably and tries to fix the tightness in front of him and wow, he can't process the fact that he's got a semi in his pants right now. He faces the wall and tries very hard to pass through.

A hand falls on his shoulder and he jumps.

"There you are," says the man, and Seungkwan flinches because he can't handle being hit on right now when there's Joshua being a sensual piece of art and a hundred different buzzing voices in his brain and a heat that feels like a furnace kickstarting in his tummy.

"GO AWAY, Satan--"he turns around and his words are cut off.

"--A-Aron hyung?" His eyes boggle. "What are you--what're you doing _*hic*_ here?"

He's hallucinating, probably. He blames it on the alcohol. It's an uncanny resemblance, what with this guy having the same doe eyes and dark eyebrows.

Aron, who's apparently here at the club with them, shrugs and gives him a lopsided smile. "I was supposed to be keeping my eye on you guys. This was a stupid idea to begin with, but Josh insisted I do him a solid. Where is he, anyway?"

Seungkwan's throat is dry, and his mind hasn't fully wrapped around the thought of Aron being there, in America, so he doesn't respond immediately.  _He's American, you idiot. This is his homeland._ Instead he swallows, and tries to suppress a shudder as something boils in his stomach. "I'm a wibble-- _little_ , wibbly-wobbly."

He tries to step away, his legs tangling in the process.

"Whoa there." Aron's hops forward, hands steadying him by the arms. Seungkwan's hand shoots out to brace himself against the wall, his side falling back against its smooth surface.

"You're really drunk," Aron snorts, eyebrows furrowing a little. "I didn't think you'd get this drunk. How much did you drink?"

"Erm," Seungkwan squints at Aron, and then lifts a knuckle, counting the drinks out with his finger. "Thirteen. Three ..." he swallows. "I don't know. One? I don't know." He might be answering an entirely different question, about why their group name is Seventeen.

"This is bad," Aron laughs nervously. He digs out his phone from his pocket and dials something. "Where's Josh?"

Seungkwan lets out a high-pitched chortle that startles Aron. "In there? He's in, uh, heaven. I think. Getting his mind blown."

Aron raises an eyebrow which looks like a rippling caterpillar to Seungkwan. "Stay put," he orders, before going through the hall and into the bathroom. Seungkwan kind of feels bad for ruining whatever Joshua's doing in there, but it's not his fault Joshua sold his soul tonight to be a slick little sex demon.

He hums their secret track 'Heaven' while he waits, because he just realized he made that pun, sort of.

Maybe it's the club. Or maybe Joshua eventually got tired of being called ridiculous nicknames like Church Oppa or something and decided to unleash his inner darkness into the world. Seungkwan can't wrap his head around it. It's driving him up the wall, almost literally.

Joshua, predictably, looks mussed up and kissed out when Aron comes back with him. Seungkwan stares at his swollen lips like a deer in headlights. He's got a small frown and a sigh escapes him, probably from being interrupted from devouring his prey, and Aron mouth is a straight line. Joshua's eyes land on him and he's on him in a second.

"How'd you know I was--"

Aron rolls his eyes and flicks Joshua's ear with a finger, eliciting a pained cry from Josh. "He saw you. How else would he know?"

Joshua turns to Seungkwan again, Seungkwan, who's trying to assimilate into the wall as they speak. "You saw me? With, with--"

"Yeah, I did," Seungkwan levels him with a blank stare, but his hooded eyes and slurred speech make him look busted. "You sir, need to confess your sins."

Joshua narrows his eyes at him and _fuck,_ that intense gaze should never be combined with that bedroom look. He's going to need to evaluate his sudden Josh-sexual orientation later, but for now he has to concentrate on not sinking into the floor like a puddle.

"Seungkwan. There's nothing wrong with kissing another guy."

Seungkwan's jaw drops, and then he shakes his head furiously. "N-not, not because of that!" Seungkwan's face crumples, his own arms crossing protectively in front of him. "I don't care if you make out with a man or a tree. But you didn't tell me you were gay!"

Joshua steps back, mouth opening and closing. Behind him Aron suppresses a chuckle. Seungkwan hopes it's not because of his current state. He sniffs, because somehow he's getting emotional now, too. Okay, so maybe Joshua could have helped when he was suffering from his self-inflicted crisis back in South Korea. Maybe he's now starting to feel a bit bitter that Joshua hadn't come to him with congratulations like the other company folks, or tried to guide him like a good hyung.

"I don't--I'm not gay, Seungkwan." Joshua crosses his arms over his perfectly clothed yet sinfully sculpted chest. "I don't subscribe to any label."

"What?" Seungkwan's head jerks a little as he tried to clear head space. "What?'

"Labels are the opposite of understanding," Aron jumps in and explains, his hand falling on Joshua's shoulder. "That isn't something that your elders teach you every day, but yeah. If you'd gotten Netflix over at your dorm like I told you to, you'd know that. From Sense8. Great show. You should totally binge. Also, if you didn't notice, there's a rainbow flag outside the establishment. Seungkwan, this is an LGBT friendly club."

Seungkwan ducks his head and blinks rapidly, yet again trying to soak in all the information, without much success. Everything they're saying, he's getting it, at some level, but his mind is a sieve right now, with holes punched in by the Jack and tequila and whatever else he'd imbibed.

"I--I, look. I'm kind of really dizzy right now. So I can't ... can't process anything without thinking of you and your _tongue._ Ohh God, Ican'tbelieveIsaidthatoutloud. Take me home? Maybe we can talk tomorrow when I'm not ... not thinking about your hand on another man's, uh, butt." He throws Aron a pleading look. "And besides, you told me you were looking out for us. Joshua-hyung shouldn't be kissing anyone in his state. We've been drinking all night!"

Seungkwan maybe imagines it, but Aron and Joshua share a look.

_I don't get drunk at all. But he doesn't know that._

Seungkwan scoffs, his pointer finger jabbing at Joshua's shoulder. "I don't care if you're built like a freaking tank, hyung. You must get a little drunk."

Joshua's face scrunches in confusion, and Seungkwan looks back at him, trying to focus.

 _Did I say that out loud?_   Joshua thinks. Unlike the rest of them, Joshua's thoughts are clear and unclouded by alcohol. It feels weird in general, to feel his and Aron's minds not sloshing around their skulls.

"No," Seungkwan giggles, and stumbles as he tries to get closer. Aron catches him as he loses balance, eliciting another laugh from Seungkwan. "But I heard it. Right here." He raises a finger to his temple. "Loud and clear."

Joshua stiffens, his face a picture of astonishment.

Aron looks back and forth between them, juggling Seungkwan in his arms as Seungkwan tries to struggle. "What's going on? Seungkwan--stop that."

"He was in my head." Joshua's face schools into a serious expression. Seungkwan doesn't know why Josh's staring so hard. Did he say something wrong? Step out of line? Maybe he's in trouble. Seungkwan has a sinking feeling in his chest that maybe he's somehow disappointed Joshua. His face falls. It's the last thing he wants, considering that Joshua did all of this for him.

"Let's bring them back to the hotel. All of them." Joshua tells Aron. "We can't tell Han CEO."

\--

The lights pass by, flickering through the car windows. Seungkwan thought that L.A. would be brighter at night, all glamorous and alive with energy, but it's dark, and only the street lights illuminate the roads they pass.

There's a lot of hesitation and uncertainty going through his head, his own thoughts, not the other passengers'. He's vaguely aware of everything, though doesn't seem to remember much apart from the dizzying club lights and the sound of bass in his ears. He remembers that a fight occurred, somewhere between the club entrance and the car. _Jeonghan-hyung, I think. And Seokmin-hyung. Something about a throwing up and ruining everything._

Aron's driving--Seungkwan doesn't know where their manager went--and Joshua's sitting shotgun, talking in a low voice with Aron. Their thoughts flutter by like butterflies, except their wings are cloudy and the lines that they draw in the air are disjointed. Jeonghan's crying on his shoulder for some inexplicable reason, and he's running a hand up and down his back to calm him. Jihoon's crossed that point where he's become a clingy lump, pinning Seokmin to his seat in the back. Seokmin keeps apologizing, but it sounds more like garbled nonsense than anything.

 _We're so drunk,_ Seungkwan thinks dazedly. _We got drunk in a gay club._

"I'm gay," he breathes, like it's his very soul leaving him. No one hears him. He swallows a lump and clears his throat. "Guys, I'm gay," he croaks. The words sound so weird on his tongue. He never imagined that he would say them now, of all times, while woozy and dazed, with Jeonghan squeezing him so much his right arm is already asleep and he's so close to pissing himself.

Joshua looks over his shoulder and smiles, though for some reason it's small and rueful.

"We know, Seungkwanie," he answers.

Seungkwan heaves a breath weighing like a truck. "We went to a gay club and I'm gay."

Joshua chuckles lightly. "You confirmed it back at the club." His eyes flicker to Aron and then back to Seungkwan. _You don't get this power unless you had that inclination._

Seungkwan squeezes his eyes shut. Too confusing. "I don't understand."

Joshua scrutinizes him for a moment, and then stretches out to reach for his knee. Seungkwan feels oddly comforted by the pressure.

"We'll tell you tomorrow. Hopefully when our words make more sense."

\--

"LEE SEOKMIN, DON'T YOU EVER TALK TO ME AGAIN. SHUA? SHUA! WHERE'S JOSHUA? I NEED A NICE, WARM PERSON TO UNDERSTAND ME."

Although Seungkwan's legs feel like they're weighed down by concrete, he manages to walk all the way to the hall where their rooms are in. Mingyu throws his door open and stops short to stare at Jeonghan, all crumpled on the floor and looking like a mess, with Wonwoo and Soonyoung clad in their pyjamas, flailing in distress above him like headless chickens. Seungkwan collides with Mingyu and he lets out an 'oof!' in answer, Seungkwan's fingers hooking through Mingyu's tattered shirt. Mingyu wraps an arm around his waist securely and pins him down with a look.

"What the hell happened?" Mingyu's frowns with a whole range of emotions--worry, perturbation, befuddlement--that it looks downright comical. Seungkwan kind of laughs at his face.

 _Jesus, you reek of alcohol!_ is the first thing Mingyu thinks when Seungkwan's hot breath hits his face. _What the hell happened?_

Seungkwan slaps him with little force and a limp wrist. He at least needs to tell everyone how they can help, if he can't do so himself. "You need to throw Jeonghan-hyung in the bath. Shua-hyung, he said, Seokmin he--he threw up on him while ..."

"While what?" It's Minghao who swoops in, grabbing Seungkwan by the wrist and swinging Seungkwan's arm over his shoulder. _Man, Seungkwan, what even happened? Drinking? Are you even legal to drink in the US?_

"MY BABY? WHERE'S MY BABY? LEE CHAN, I NEED YOU."

"Apparently they were making out. Experimenting, you know? We went to a gay club and it was--" Seungkwan speaks too fast and chokes on his own spit and let out a string of coughs.

" _Making out?"_ Twin grins start creeping on Mingyu and Minghao's faces, their eyes both twinkling. "Jeonghan-hyung and Seokmin?" They exchange a look.

"What happened?" _Holy shit what?_

"Tell us more." _They made out? And we didn't get to see? Oh my God that would have been epic!_

Soonyoung wrestles a wildly protesting Chan into the hall while Wonwoo tries to shove a hysterical Jeonghan into their room.

"Dino-yah! Have a heart!" _Thank God Jeonghan never cuddles me._

"Hyung, he's gonna squeeze me to death until morning!" _Please, I want to return to my country in one piece._

Junhui ducks out of his room, looking alarmed from the commotion. "Oh, boy," he says under his breath, making a beeline for the other two vocal members behind Seungkwan. "You went out drinking? Are you guys even legal to drink?"

Minghao rolls his eyes as he tries to lift Seungkwan to his feet. It's no easy task; Seungkwan's legs are jelly and Minghao, athletic as he is, isn't the best at lifting things. Seungkwan turns to Jun and rolls his eyes, too, only anything he ever does in this state looks half-baked and makes him look drunker than he is. "Stop asking the same dumb questions, Jun, you're fulfilling expectations," Seungkwan slurs, accidentally grabbing Minghao's ass and making the boy chirp in surprise.

Junhui sputters, turning to Minghao with a huff. _Heol. Rude much?_ "Who spat in his margarita?"

"He's really drunk," Mingyu groans, wiping his face with the palm of his hand. "They're all really drunk."

Seokmin lurches into view, and they all stop and stare at the big baby on his back. It's Jihoon, his arms like a vicegrip around Seokmin's neck. Seokmin's face is deathly pale, and he's carrying Jihoon as if he's serving time inside the lower circle of hell. Slighted, Junhui huffs and then tries to assess the damage with Jihoon and Seokmin instead. Seungkwan could feel him weigh the off Jihoon taking a swing at him, and then squeezes Jihoon's cheeks, trying to wake him up from his stupor. "Kaola bear, Seokmin's back is about to break. Ya Dokyeom, can you try dislodging him?"

"That's not an F sharp, turdface," Jihoon garbles. "Sing it again."

Seokmin turns his head robotically and Junhui stares incredulously.

"I threw up on Jeonghan-hyung's face."

It's chaos. They should be getting noise complaints any second now. Everyone who isn't in the vocal unit is tripping over themselves to get the inebriated out of the hall. Now that they're back and he's surrounded by the members it feels like energy is flowing back into Seungkwan's veins. He's a bit more lucid now, but the floor beneath him is still attempting to sabotage his attempts at walking.

Mingyu half-carries him into his and Hao's room as the thinner boy rushes off to tell the others what to do with Jeonghan. He pushes Seungkwan down on one of the beds and the movement causes his stomach to flip.

Seungkwan's Adam's apple bobs. "I'm going to vomit now."

"What? Oh hell--not on my duvet, you're not!"

Seungkwan's already getting on his hands and knees, but before he starts to retch Mingyu frantically manhandles him over his shoulder like a freaking brute and charges off to the bathroom.

Seungkwan narrowly avoids making a mess on the linoleum tiles. His legs shake as his stomach starts working, its contents emptying into the sink. Mingyu articulates his disgust and sighs heavily as he steps out. "I'm getting you a change of clothes. Honestly, Seungkwan, at the very least I thought you'd be the responsible one--oh! What the--Aron-hyung?"

" _Eomma_ ," Seungkwan moans, and then hurls some more. He hears Aron's voice in the other room, but he can't focus on what they're saying because his head is freaking pounding and his bladder's about to burst, too. Bad decisions--he makes them every once in a while, but this one takes the cake. His eyes tear up from the sting of the bile.

"They didn't even eat dinner. Who in their right mind goes out to drink without eating anything?" Mingyu returns with a towel in his hand.

"It's fine. I was with them," Aron makes a face at the sight of Seungkwan. "And Joshua didn't drink."

Seungkwan takes a second to compose himself, trying to steady his breathing. "Not true," he mutters, but Mingyu doesn't catch it. His head's getting a little clearer, but it's getting difficult to form coherent thoughts with the pain pulsating around his cranium.

Aron narrows his eyes. _Didn't Joshua tell him not to say anything? None of them know yet.  
_

Seungkwan peeks at Aron through a sweaty fringe, glaring at him. He splashes water on his face and rinses his mouth, before snatching Mingyu's offered towel.

"You still haven't explained what you're doing here, hyung," Mingyu fixes him a pointed look, crossing his arms as he leans back against the bathroom doorway.

"You know I'm taking a break. Didn't Han CEO tell you?"

I _was only sent here to look out for Seungcheol, but now it's getting complicated._

The mention of Seungcheol makes him freeze. He staggers to his feet and straightens his back, fixing Aron with a cold stare. Aron's eyes widen a little, only just realizing that Seungkwan, yeah, Seungkwan can read minds. Busted. _So this whole thing with the--with the porny thoughts and the flirting and the smoldering and the fuckboy vibes--this isn't just Cheol-hyung being Cheol-hyung? It's something else?_

Aron's eyes flicker around the room, and Seungkwan drills a hole in his face with his eyes. Mingyu takes stock of the silence and swivels back and forth between them, eyes narrowing. He eventually breaks the silence and makes Seungkwan break concentration.

"What's going on?"

Aron finally meets his gaze. His expression goes steely, but he doesn't look mad.

_I forgot you're in my head. Are you sober enough to talk?_

"I need a change of clothes." Seungkwan says suddenly, eyes puppy-like. He trains his gaze on Mingyu and pushes his bottom lip out. "Mingyu, can you get me some from my room? I'd swim in your clothes."

Mingyu darts a few more uncertain glances between the two, before slowly inching his way out. "Yeah, sure. Of course." He ducks out, looking over his shoulder before disappearing. Seungkwan keeps himself steady by the sink, staring down Aron. The AC's on, he's itching to get out of his clothes and he's about to pass out from sheer exertion, but he's finally close to getting answer for once and can't back down now.

"How much do you know about Seungcheol?" Aron questions, stepping forward with his voice dropping down into a whisper. Seungkwan pats his face down with a towel and tries to keep his frustration in check.

"I know that he's been going all predator on me," Seungkwan mutters darkly, his voice sounding like gravel from all the vomiting. "I know that he's been thinking _a lot_ about sex. And it's not just about, well, me. He's thought about other people. Like Dongho-hyung when he appeared on TV. What's that about?"

Aron sits on the information for a second, thoughts reeling. Seungkwan tries not to sway like grass in the wind.

"Has he thought about anyone else that way?"

"I need to sit down," Seungkwan mumbles when he decides standing is a chore, blindly groping around until he touches the rim of the hotel bath tub. He plants his butt by the edge and tries to think through the pain. "Shua-hyung. Yeah. Yeah, Shua-hyung. I remember because I was freaked out that day. He and ... he and Dino ate jjampong with some bad mussels in it, and Dino couldn't practice. But Shua, he was fine--he didn't get sick even though the whole restaurant was shut down." His eyebrows draw together. "And for some reason Cheol-hyung was turned on by that."

Aron hums, and Seungkwan can read him like a book, going through a wide array of possible powers that Seungcheol might have. _Powers._ Seungkwan still can't believe that this is even possible--he thought Seungcheol just turned into a sleazebag overnight--but now it doesn't seem so farfetched. He himself has his own mind-reading ability. Anything can happen at this point.

But _powers._ He's not alone. There are others going through the same motions as he is. Shua-hyung. Cheol-hyung. Aron, too?

What he finds strange is that Aron knows a lot more than he's letting on. Joshua seems to be in the loop, too, and with the way they're so jumpy about it you'd think they're in some kind of secret club or something. He keeps seeing images of Han CEO, but the thoughts keep getting away from him, like Aron's actively trying not to think about him right now but he's somehow involved in what's happening.

Aron stops on a stray thought and tries to build around it. Seungkwan could see on his face comprehension dawning as the information stacks. _Latent ability. Responsive to other powers. Manifests through sexual desire._

 _How does he know all this?_ Seungkwan wonders.

"Tracking," Aron breathes, his face lighting up as he looks at Seungkwan. "He can find other people like him."

"What?"

"I'm not sure. We need to make sure," Aron pushes himself away from the tiled wall and makes to rush out. "I'm telling Shua. You ... you pull yourself together and we'll talk tomorrow."

He knocks shoulders with Mingyu on the way out as Mingyu follows with, "Hey! Where are you off to? Where's he off to?" Mingyu's head snaps to Seungkwan, who's got his face buried in his hands.

He needs to take a piss and maybe sleep for forty-eight hours.

"Going to Shua-hyung." His answer's muffled down by his hands. _To tell him that apparently Cheol-hyung has a gaydar._

 _A superpower-sensing gaydar that makes him_ horny.

_Like, like what even?  
_


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This still ain't beta-read.
> 
> Anyways, I'm sick right now (look at me putting in the work), and I wanted to put this out before Vernonie's and Dokyeom's birthdays on Sunday so I could maybe post another on that date. No promises, though.
> 
> Again, sorry for the quality of the writing. I'm really not satisfied lol, considering that I'm reading this GyuHao fic right now that is an absolute masterpiece. I'm reading 10 nine 8 (maybe this is fate). Heard of it?

The sun is out, and for the first time in a long while Seungkwan wishes that nobody invented the sun.

"... curtains," he croaks, his chapped lips catching on the pillow he's got his face smushed in. Sometime in the night, a cat must have used his throat as a scratching post, because it aches, just like the rest of him. No big deal, he thinks, because on some days, he wakes up the same way, especially before comebacks, or awards season. But as he attempts to shift and stretch, his limbs, he finds, are rigid as petrified wood. Why can't he move anything? And his joints--they need some serious oiling.

"Hmm? What was that?"

 _Oh, good. Someone's here. I'm not entirely helpless._ He stirs, a crick in his neck making tilting his head towards the sound of the voice difficult. He only just manages to pry his eyes open a tiny crack, and through those slits he sees a blurry image of Hansol, sitting lotus style by the bedside while his headphones keep his bed hair in place. He seems pretty distracted by whatever he's watching on his phone, because he doesn't even glance at Seungkwan.

"Close the curtains." Seungkwan lets his head fall back against his pillow. "Please," he adds as an afterthought.

"Oh." Hansol unfurls his legs and pads over to the glass panes of the balcony doors, obediently tugging at the curtains until the room is somewhat dark again. His eyes never leave the phone screen as he does this. Seungkwan's eyelids on the other hand sear shut after pinching closed. His answering groan drags out until all the air's left his lungs.

"Breakfast?"

Seungkwan, though disoriented, hears the rustle of plastic and a tiny, muffled crunch. His second attempt at opening his eyes makes his head throb, because there's still too much light filtering in from everywhere.

Hansol's idea of an energizing morning meal is a bag of classic, nacho cheese Doritos, paired with Spongebob Squarepants on Youtube. Seungkwan kind of wants to cry because Hansol's officially the worst hangover cure ever. He loves Doritos, but the thought of biting into a chip and feeling the floury consistency against his sandy tongue right then makes his stomach complain.

"Doritos? I'm kind of ..." Seungkwan rolls on his back and groans again, the sheets around his legs tangling further. "... kind of dying here."

Hansol looks at him, his lips quirking. "And whose fault is that?" There's no bite to his words, only a tinge of affection. His eyes are round and child-like and his gaze is soft, warming Seungkwan better than the blankets or the pesky sunlight. Even here, having just rolled out of bed to watch cartoons, Seungkwan acknowledges, begrudgingly, that Hansol looks good. Hansol's good-looking any time of the day. It's really unfair. He on the other hand probably looks like a gutter rat right now.

It takes him a moment to realize where he is and how he got there.  _Right, right. I'm at the hotel. I lost consciousness last night after losing the battle with gravity._

"There's a tray of eggs and Frankfurters by the bed. You're probably going to want to drink some water. And Tylenol."

Seungkwan throws an arm over his eyes and whines pitifully. He takes back what he said--Hansol's not the worst. He scoots down the bed and curls around Hansol's waist like a snake seeking warmth, burying his face against the side of Hansol's thigh. Hansol doesn't shift away or protest, welcoming him. Fingers card through Seungkwan's hair, and the slow, rhythmic motion of Hansol's palm against his temple soothes his headache somewhat. It's a sweet, too sweet, gesture.

"You're welcome," Hansol singsongs. He focuses his attention back on the Spongebob episode. Seungkwan knows it's Squidward on the screen because Hansol's taken out the jack of his headphones so that the both of them could hear. He figures it's because he's already awake and Hansol doesn't need to keep quiet. Seungkwan purrs quietly against him. He appreciates this, too--hearing the buzz of silly voiceovers on a lazy morning. It reminds him of weekends back home in Jeju. His older sisters knew how to appreciate the art that went into mindless Nickelodeon cartoons, and during Saturdays Seungkwan would often pad into the living room seeing them trying to wake up on the couch while his _eomma_ prepares breakfast in the kitchen.

"Thank you," Seungkwan says against his thigh. He stays like that for a few minutes, just enjoying Hansol's warmth and touch. He could live off of this, just lying in a sleep-warmed bed, curled around Hansol. He wishes he could just spend the day in bed.

"Can I spend the day in bed?" Seungkwan mumbles, burying his face deeper into the wedge between the bed and Hansol. His friend has moved on from combing his fingers through his hair to tugging at the clumps. He's probably trying to straighten them out after they've fused together during sleep. Didn't anyone shove him in the bath last night? He envies Jeonghan-hyung right then. He's probably living like a prince in the other room, with Chan as his human-sized teddy bear and two attendants waiting on him.

"We need to shoot footage for Going Seventeen. But hey, if you're not going, I'm not going."

Seungkwan peeks out with one eye, training a bleary gaze at Hansol. "Is everyone else OK?"

Hansol shrugs, nudging his head towards the direction of the other rooms. "Woozi-hyung's pretty much in the same state as you are. Same with Dokyeom and Jeonghan-hyung. We all pretended to be shocked when we saw Josh was OK. We figured he was your DD."

 _He wasn't_. A frown forms on Seungkwan's lips. _He can't get drunk, apparently. And ... and he took us out to drink anyway! Why that little ..._

"I'm getting up." He bolts upright, making Hansol jump in alarm, and Seungkwan experiences a flood of vertigo, followed by intense nausea. "NO--no, I'm not," he rasps, falling back onto bed. His stomach, properly agitated now, roils like a boiling cauldron. He gags, a clear sign of what's to befall the sheets if he doesn't move. "I--no, yes I am."

He's found fifteen seconds later retching in the bathroom until his stomach muscles surrender. Hansol's waiting outside the door, scowling.

Five minutes later, he's stumbling back into bed, knees shaking and face paler than paper. His appetite is non-existent after sanitizing his mouth once with Listerine, throwing up some more because the astringent liquid reminded his tongue of booze, and then washing his mouth with it again like a big boy. There's a persistent throbbing sensation radiating from his throat, up the back of his neck, to the rest of his skull. He reeks. He knows he reeks. But Hansol's still there with him anyway.

Hansol flutters around him, uncertain of what to do. If Seungkwan was a casual observer he would have laughed seeing Hansol hop around like a neurotic, frightened mother bird.

"Should I get one of the hyungs, or--are you feeling OK? Feverish?" Hansol plops down on the bed next to him and shoves his cold palm against his forehead.

"Stop--you don't know the first thing about feeling around for fever," Seungkwan snorts, pulling Hansol's hand away. Hansol frowns, but he doesn't argue. "Just ... just stay put. Watch whatever you want and eat your chips."

"You're the one who should be eating."

"I'll eat once my stomach settles down."

"Then drink some water at least."

"I ..." Seungkwan flushes, some color seeping back into his skin. "I drank from the tap."

"Gross." Hansol sighs, and then looks at him, hard.

It's not an intense gaze, or a piercing glare.

It's soft, like he's looking deep into the recesses of Seungkwan's being, searching for something intangible.

Seungkwan lasts for about five seconds before he looks away.

"What you guys did was stupid. You could have gotten hurt."

Hansol ducks his head down when Seungkwan's eyes flit back, looking shy even as he tries to reprimand Seungkwan. His eyes settle on their fingers, which are dancing against each other with hesitation. Knuckles tap and brush against Seungkwan's fingernails, slow yet deliberate. Seungkwan turns his hand over, and he feels around with the pads of his fingers until he touches the back of Hansol's hand. Seungkwan doesn't need to look down to know that they're both trying to fumble around for an excuse to hold hands. Feeling emboldened, Seungkwan's palm slips into the other after finding the right fit. Hansol's hands are slightly callused, a contrast to Seungkwan's supple skin. It was cold against his forehead, but now it's got an electrical field of its own, making Seungkwan's whole arm buzz.

"I know. I'm sorry." Seungkwan wants to say that even though the night ended on a disastrous note, they still enjoyed the parts that led up to it, and that Joshua just wanted him to have fun for one night. But he knows that if their roles were reversed, Seungkwan would be nagging Hansol's ear off, so he decides to let Hansol have this one.

He discovered a lot of things in that upscale club, things that cleared out a lot of the confusion he's been feeling for weeks. He still needs to give Joshua a piece of his mind, and Aron, if he's still around, so that he could finally put into perspective what this whole powers thing is about. And someone else knows about Seungcheol now. There's finally an explanation to his behavior, and that means they can start helping him by forming a strategy. He doesn't know how they'll do it, but there's more than just him now in this equation.

Seungkwan's also starting to realize that maybe he is a little bit gay. He doesn't know for sure yet, but the way his body responded to Joshua last night was quite the betrayal. If he were a hundred percent straight, he would have been disgusted at the sight, or at least indifferent to it. But seeing Joshua kiss another man made him feel certain things, certain specific wants and needs that he's starting to crave. Seungkwan needs to make sure. He's never considered it before, kissing and touching, but now, he's starting to think about it, like a seed's been planted in his brain and he's only now being sexually awakened.

A part of him, the young, immature part, wants to snicker at the idea. But the other part--the one that's just realizing that he hasn't let go of Hansol's hand the entire time, the one that only now has noticed that he's locked eyes with Hansol and that they haven't said anything for a full minute--wants to explore this new side of himself, to venture into the possibilities. That part of him wants to try and dip his feet into the pool and test the waters, to try some things and experiment _now._

The desire leaves him breathless for a second.

Hansol has no idea.

Seungkwan licks his lips and then tugs his hand away.

He watches as Hansol's eyes widen a fraction. Maybe he imagines it, but Hansol's shoulders droop down, deflating. Seungkwan's eyes narrow. _Was that ... is that supposed to mean anything? Is he disappointed? What should I ... should I take his hand again?_

No. No, not now. No. The moment's gone. Hansol's straightening up and smiling bashfully, looking like he's a little relieved. Or, or downhearted? Chrissakes, how is he supposed to tell? Not for the first time he wishes his powers worked on Hansol, but when he tries to focus on the other boy, all he sees is his hair and his eyes and his stupid face.

Some other time, maybe. When he doesn't have traces of alcohol in his system or the taste of bile at the back of his throat. He'll try some other time. He wants to try. When he's sure that Hansol isn't going to pull away or punch him or, or something equally violent and gutting.

He's not going to risk it now. Not when he looks like this and Hansol looks like, well, _that_. All careworn and tender, with his gorgeous, gorgeous brown eyes and his rosy, slightly-parted lips. Seungkwan's eyes travel across a wide swathe of pale skin going from Hansol's ear down his neck to his exposed shoulder and collar and he knows, _knows_ that he's starting to catch unsightly feelings.

For Hansol.

God he's so _cute._

"I'm taking a nap."

"I'm gonna check on the rest."

"Great."

"Yeah."

Hansol bounces off the bed and swerves around the corner of the bed, stifling a cry of pain when his knee bangs against the hard leg of the bed frame, while Seungkwan blindly reaches around for another pillow to throw over his face because his blood has decided to migrate to his cheeks at breakneck speed.

Seungkwan takes a minute to compose himself underneath the goose down even after he hears the door close behind Hansol.

What is wrong with him? What's wrong with Hansol? Is this going to be a thing between them now? Is he going to be an awkward mess each time they make eye contact for more than two seconds? Is he going to be thinking about Hansol's geezer voice or his wiry arms or his stupid careworn K-drama face all the time from here on out?

Just the stream of questions is making him dizzy from exertion.

And the butterflies, man, the butterflies. He knows it's not the nausea because he took care of that a few minutes ago. Those butterflies have made a veritable colony in his stomach and they're threatening to conquer the rest of him, like beautiful, multicolored missionaries on a quest to convert each and every cell of his body into a Hansol fanatic.

He lets out a soft, helpless whine.

He's _doomed._

_For Chrissakes it's not posting fast enough. Hurry up!_

Seungkwan freezes.

_Why why why is the connection so slow? I want to watch it again!  
_

He hears something move at the end of the room, behind the closet door, followed by an urgent whispering sound and some scuffling. Immediately on his guard, his eyes narrow at the closet and his forehead knits in suspicion.

_Shit, he noticed us. Stop it, Mingyu! Giggling idiot._

That's Minghao. It couldn't be anyone else. Nobody else calls Mingyu an idiot in their head so liberally.

They're both hiding in the closet.

Those bastards.

How long have they been in there? He pushes himself off the bed and pads over slowly towards the source of the thoughts.

_He's getting closer! We've got nowhere to go. Crap._

Seungkwan is horrified to realize that they've been there the whole time.

 _What do we do?_ Seungkwan hears another round of shuffling noises as he creeps closer.

_Oh my God this idiot. Burying us in clothes isn't gonna help! You might as well dig through the concrete wall!  
_

_Get your hand off of my face, Hao!_

Seungkwan unceremoniously throws the door open to find Minghao and Mingyu on the floor, their legs entangled in the small space. Minghao's covering Mingyu's mouth with one hand while the other's clutching at his phone. Mingyu's half-buried in a pile of coats and shirts, looking just as Minghao described him (an idiot), and the both of them are wearing guilty expressions as their heads snap up with wide eyes.

"That's a nice little hole you two stuffed yourselves in," Seungkwan says drily. "Were you two looking for some privacy or were you up to something?"

"We were just--uh--"

"We--uh, we were digging for some clothes--you know, to wear for the day--"

"--we got lost. Thought this was the exit. Found it nice, though. Comfy."

_You idiot._

_We're in deep shit._

Seungkwan's gaze trails along Minghao's arm, from his sheepish expression to the phone he's trying to hide behind a hanging polo shirt.

"I'd stop posting that if I were you," Seungkwan warns with a sharp smile. "Unless you want your deepest, darkest secret revealed, Xu Minghao."

Minghao begins to chuckle nervously, glancing at Mingyu with--what's this?--fear in his eyes? Seungkwan could hear him spiraling in his head.

_As if he knows about the underwear thing. No way. I always make sure to put it back without anyone seeing._

"I know about the underwear thing." Seungkwan cocks his head pointedly.

A beat passes.

"How do you know about that!?"

Seungkwan's curiosity is piqued, and any other day he'd pry until the underwear secret's out, but for now, he wants Minghao to stop posting whatever it is his phone captured. It's probably a video of him and Hansol from a few minutes ago. He tries not to flush at the thought that someone was watching them (he thought that they were having a _private_ conversation) and levels Minghao with a cold look. He's never used his ability to powerplay before, but using it right about now feels just as rewarding as killing a mosquito with a swat to the arm.

"Wait--what underwear thing?" Mingyu interjects, his jaw hanging.

He relishes the moment Minghao's face disintegrates into panic. Seungkwan holds his hand out and motions for the phone.

Seungkwan smirks, and Minghao gives him the phone without protest, making Mingyu squawk indignantly.

"What underwear thing? Hao, explain. What underwear thing?" Mingyu's shaking Minghao, who's gone all pale from the shock, while Seungkwan cancels the video upload of him and Hansol lying in bed. A minute more and he would have seen that pop up in their group's Kakao chat. Hansol would've had kittens and he would've died of mortification had the two morons been successful.

He sends the video to himself instead, and then deletes it from Hao's phone afterwards. _For science._

Minghao won't fess up, and Mingyu keeps prodding him until they're wrestling on the opposite bed.

"YOU HAVE AN UNDERWEAR THING?" _I need to know!_

"STOP SAYING UNDERWEAR THING, you halfwit giant!" _He can't find out EVER._

"HAO HAS AN UNDERWEAR THING!" _Oh my God look at his face._

"I'm gonna murder you." _You're dead. I'm burying you in the desert you imbecile.  
_

Hao's got Mingyu pinned to the bed, straddling him and holding his wrists with a vice-like grip as Mingyu goes into hysterics. Seungkwan lobs Hao's phone somewhere in between the scuffle, and then slips back into bed. "Will you two shut up? I made the whole thing up, Mingyu." With a fresh headache blooming in his brain he grabs the end of the duvet and throws it over himself, covering his body from head to toe and cocooning himself in its warmth.

He wants sleep, damn it, not two voyeuristic, nosy boys who have the combined mental capacity of a loofa. He's afforded a few seconds of peace before someone pounces on his body, knocking the wind out of him.

"What the hell?" He flails about until the duvet is off of him, glaring at--at Minghao (he expected Mingyu). "You could have broken my hip!"

Minghao grins at him, laugh lines nearly splitting his face in half. "Since you know nothing about this secret that doesn't exist," Minghao clears his throat, "why don't _you_ tell us about _your_ little secret that _actually_ exists and _everybody_ knows about?"

Seungkwan looks at him like he's grown another eye. "What in Han Sungsoo's name are you talking about, Hao?"

Mingyu's head pops out from over his shoulder and mirrors the same gleeful expression. "Oh, c'mon! We _saw_ you two. Caught it on video, even. Until you deleted it because you've got some dirt on Ming--OW!"

Minghao flicks him in the face and Mingyu cups his nose, looking stung.

Seungkwan groans and then falls back onto the bed, covering his face with everything within reach before all the blushing betrays him. "Please don't make a big deal out of this. It's not a big deal."

The room becomes suspiciously quiet all of a sudden, and Seungkwan waits for a second, pouting. He pulls down the sheets slowly, just to look and see if his two assailants had suddenly died, but he finds Minghao smiling sweetly at him instead, and Mingyu biting his lip, vibrating with excitement.

It would be a sheer damper in the mood if Seungkwan tries to bring up the underwear thing again.

He sits up, rubbing his face, and then looks down at his lap, flexing and curling his fingers. He can still feel it, the warmth, the texture of Hansol's skin against his own. He's held hands with him a million times, but the friction felt different this time around. More tangible.

He's got two obnoxious human-sized puppies on his bed waiting to get their treat, but Seungkwan doesn't know what to give them. It's not like he's figured all this stuff out. It's new and uncharted territory. He knows what he's starting to feel, but he's got no clue what Hansol thinks, which, again, is so stupid, considering he has all this power now and the one person he wants it to work on just happens to have the thickest, most impregnable skull in the world.

"I don't know how he feels." Seungkwan shrugs listlessly. "And I ... the last thing I want to do is ... is do something that might set us back years. Or even ruin what we have right now. I _like_ what we have right now, do you understand?" His are wide, silently begging for them to understand. "I like what we have, and if you guys make a big deal about it and it blows up and we both get hurt, could you live with that?"

His eyes flit back and forth between the two. Minghao's smile is no longer a smile, his eyebrows turned down at the sides, and Mingyu's biting his lip still, but he's no longer bouncing.

_But he has to know. The way Hansol looks at him ... If he watches the video ..._

_Seungkwan-ie, it's not as hopeless as it seems. It's been four years in the making. You just need the right moment._

"Please keep it under wraps," Seungkwan requests nonetheless. He doesn't even want to think about all those years. "For me?"

Mingyu rubs the back of his neck and ducks shyly. "I mean, we can keep it to ourselves."

Minghao eyes Mingyu, and then shrugs. "Yeah. Yes, OK. But you have to know, it's difficult not to notice you two. I mean, you two have been around each other for years, but now it's different. Now it's so much more than just friendship. The others can see it. The fans, too."

"I know." Seungkwan closes his eyes and staggers out a breath. His chest feels like it's about to burst. It's one thing knowing that there's something real there, forming from a deeply seated friendship and evolving into something with potential, but for him to be told that everybody else can feel it, too ... "It's a lot to take in. But what I want is to figure everything out without everyone else butting in or making things weird."

Minghao perks up. "We can help you with that. Right, Gyu?" He elbows Mingyu, who whines like a little kid.

"Why is it always physical with you?"

Minghao's lips quirk. "I like pushing you around."

"Alright, fine. Just ..." Seungkwan sinks back into bed, feeling mentally, emotionally, everything -ally and what have you, drained. He doesn't even care that Hao's and Gyu's thoughts are so in tune right now that it's scary. "Just let me sleep for like an hour or two. Forever, tops."

"We'll wake you up for lunch." MIngyu promises, patting his ass. Minghao gets off of the bed and stretches, gazing down at Seungkwan's form with a fond expression.

"But you won't get away from us, Seungkwan." Minghao smirks. "We want every single little detail from here on out."

Seungkwan seriously considers opening the topic of underwear again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm literally still proofreading this as I careen into the night.
> 
> Leave a comment carats~


	13. Chapter 13

Seungkwan hurtles through the rest of the day with a pressurized ball for a head. There's suddenly a lot of dirty laundry to sort out outside of their hectic comeback preparations, and honestly Seungkwan just wants to throw in the towel and crawl back into bed. But there's another shoot tomorrow, and he only has tonight to 1) fix whatever damage the vocal unit has inflicted upon California, 2) solve the mystery that is Aron's sudden appearance in L.A., and 3) talk to Joshua, the alluring wolf in sheep's clothing himself, about what they should do with Seungcheol.

He's got the list down in reverse order of priority. Although, there's another item that's supposed to be there--Hansol's name--but it's been crossed out.

He can deal with his own issues later. After Mingyu and Minghao rouse him and whisk off to God knows where, he washes and dresses, gobbling down the food Hansol left him. _Coldest brunch I've eaten yet--Vernonie should have covered it at least!_ He then steels himself as he enters the hallway, nursing his head and wishing he had the time to recuperate.

The door to Jihoon's room is ajar, which already strikes Seungkwan as odd, and when he enters, he finds Junhui instead of Jihoon's actual roommate Seungcheol. He was expecting Seungcheol's advances, girding his loins as he slinks in, but the older boy is nowhere in sight. He releases a breath he realizes he was holding. That's when he really takes in the state of the room, his eyes growing bigger by the second. He stares at Jun, who's picking clothes up from the floor and draping them over his shoulder. The first thought that comes to mind is that a wardrobe must have exploded in the middle of the room. 

"Quite a storm this morning," he says as a way of greeting, eyes trained on where his feet are landing as he navigates through the veritable murder scene before him. Clothes are strewn everywhere, there's bedding in the unlikeliest of places, and the furniture's off-kilter.

Jun looks up from where he's bending over to pick up a shard of some vase that Pledis is probably going to have to pay for, noticing Seungkwan. His crooked smile is welcoming, as if tidying up is his idiosyncrasy. It's not. Mingyu's the one with cleaning as a default setting. So the absence of any displeasure from the older Chinese boy is disconcerting.

"What happened here?" Seungkwan frowns as he gives the room a more critical once-over. There's a dent in the far beige wall that might have been hit by something heavy, like a suitcase or a human head. The old hardwood floorboards could be seen through a gash in the carpet-- _now what could have sliced that?--_ and a duvet is half-covering the lone television set where static is playing.

"Jihoon and Seungcheol had a fight," Jun answers, making Seungkwan head snap to him, but Jun's tone makes it seem like it wasn't a serious fight. He's chipper and full of energy, typical Jun, but it still bothers Seungkwan. "Well, not so much a fight as Jihoon getting mad at me and Seungcheol stepping in to sweet-talk him into submission. They're having lattes a few streets over. I think everything's good."

_It's not the first time Jihoon-hyung lost his temper because of Jun. But Cheol-hyung stopped him? That's unexpected._

"Then ... why are you so perky?"

Jun's sigh is almost forlorn, and coupled with his cheery expression it's confusing Seungkwan. Jun looks back to a few snippets of that morning in his head, and Seungkwan, being conveniently telepathic, is granted unsolicited access to them.

_Jihoon having a fit over the night before, because he remembers DJ-ing for free at the club, grinding against every person within reach, and making a fool of himself once he got back to the hotel._

_Junhui wrestling him into the bathroom, and Jihoon thrashing in the tub like violent cat._

_Jihoon without clothes on--_ Seungkwan swats the image aside with a grimace.

_The hissy fit turning into an all-out nuclear explosion the next day when Jihoon realizes he's wearing Jun's clothes, that Jun has seen him naked, which to this date no one else had._

_Jun looking smug as he dodges and weaves around every projectile that comes his way, and Seungcheol stepping in to calm Jihoon down._

There's nothing out of place about the scenes that played; Seungkwan's always known that Jun has a soft spot for Jihoon, and that Jihoon likes to hurl dangerous objects at the boy on occasion. Jihoon's a private person, and he's very shy about his own body, so really, his area down south is a mystery. That Jun reacted the way he did, well, that's normal, too.

What he found bizarre is Seungcheol, who looked strange in the memory _._ Seungcheol's shoulders were loose, his face relaxed and even amused at some point. There's a languid easiness to the way he defused Jihoon's ire. There's also a distinct absence of eye bags on his face, like he's had a solid eight hours of sleep.

"Because, well ..."

Seungkwan is knocked out of his reverie, head flicking back to Jun.

"I feel good," Jun continues, throwing him a dazzling grin.

Seungkwan lays down a flat stare.

He doesn't gain anything from scouring Jun's head, just that Jun is really set in his task of impressing Jihoon with the restoration of his hotel room.

"Do you ... need a hand?" Seungkwan's neck retracting like a turtle. His offer is hesitant because he doesn't really want to help, but the state of the room is a cause for concern, and he kind of feels responsible.

"Oh no, it's fine. I got this. It's not the first time Jihoon's thrown a tantrum. I'm kind of used to it? Also, I'm waiting for him to come back and I don't have anything else to do 'til then." Jun shrugs, throwing the clothes piled on his shoulders onto an empty loveseat. "Gonna fold those in a sec ..." he mutters distractedly to himself, already setting out to pick up more of the mess.

"OK, cool. I'm ... gonna leave now." Seungkwan inches his way back to the door, eyes squinting at the Chinese boy. An uneasy feeling settles in his stomach, like he's missing something, some kind of inside joke or, or _something_. He shuts the door and tries to figure out what it is, lost in thought as he makes his way to the room across Jihoon's.

If he recalls correctly, this is the room Jeonghan was dragged in last night. It's Soonyoung's room with Junhui, but since Junhui stayed at Jihoon's, that would mean Jeonghan must have had a free bed to claim in it.

He already knows to expect a huge mound on the bed before even entering the room. He knows that Jeonghan likes to sleep on a bed that's built like a cloud, and that he seeks warmth like a cold-blooded animal. The angelic boy is a notorious pillow thief and blanket burglar, and the only ones who tolerate that side of him are Seungcheol, who can withstand freezing cold temperatures, Joshua, who likes to indulge Jeonghan, and Seokmin, who's a complete pushover. Usually the task of being his cuddle buddy falls to Seokmin, but after last night, Seungkwan highly doubts he'd find the boy anywhere within fifty feet of him.

Seungkwan opens the door and pokes his head in.

It takes him a full minute to grasp that the messy head of hair sticking out from one side of the comfy hill on the far bed belongs to Seokmin. _Seokmin-hyung._ He's sleeping like the dead, his limbs wrapped around Jeonghan's prone form like vines. _Jeonghan-hyung?_

 _OK, so clearly I'm missing something here._ Jeonghan, no matter how skunk-drunk he was the night before, never forgets a slight made on him. And Seokmin giving him a vomit face mask is equivalent to at least a month's worth of spiteful looks, cold shoulders and torment. So something must have happened that morning. Either Jeonghan genuinely forgot what happened or he let the incident slide.

_I doubt it. Something had to have happened between the two. Jeonghan-hyung was livid last night. I saw that. I remember it clearly._

He pulls the door closed and tries not to have an aneurysm trying to make sense of this really weird world he's woken up to. With nowhere else to go, he decides to try the lobby this time to look for more puzzle pieces.

 _So Jihoon-hyung's OK, though his room is not. Seokmin and Jeonghan-hyung are conked out in one bed._ _So now there's Shua-hyung left ..._ _No, Shua-hyung didn't get wasted. He_ couldn't _get wasted, even if he tried. At least, that's what Aron-hyung said in his head. It has something to do with his power ..._ He stops cold in the middle of the stairwell and blinks a couple of times, the gears in his head turning.

_Power ... Of course!  
_

Some mysterious power is at work here. Joshua must have done something that morning that somehow fixed everything. That's the only explanation Seungkwan can think of, because honestly, Seungkwan hasn't experienced an easy day ever since he arrived in America, and the day he's had so far has been too problem-free.

He bumps into Wonwoo in the lobby as he's skulking around trying to find a whiff of Joshua. Seungkwan curses his luck, but it really doesn't help his case that there's thirteen of them in the group--statistically it's next to impossible not to have a run in with one of them in a hotel as small as the one they're staying in.

Wonwoo, who's carrying a bag of groceries, has bags of a different sort under his eyes, and he looks the way he generally does, only it's punctuated by the lack of makeup and the dark, all-encompassing black hole of an aura. It makes Seungkwan involuntarily shiver from fear.

"Seungkwan-ah. Take these to the kitchen." The items inside the plastic bag clink together as they're shoved against Seungkwan's stomach. "I have a date with a bed because _someone_ kept me up last night."

"Jeonghan-hyung?"

"No. Soonyoung." A brief flash of Soonyoung on a sugar-high pestering Wonwoo with ideas for kwon-spoilers appears in Wonwoo's head. Wonwoo seems to have stayed up until just before sunrise playing this new game on his handheld, waiting for Soonyoung to run out of steam.

"Oh." Wonwoo never exercises authority, but his expression and his curt tone brooks no argument, so Seungkwan abandons that option and accepts the bags. "I thought you were roommates with Vernonie?"

"He slept in Mingyu's room. I know because Mingyu and Hao stole our room, because Vernon took theirs. Vernon told me that a while ago when we went to the store."

A light blush takes over Seungkwan's face. He didn't even know until now that Hansol slept in the same room as him last night. He meant to ask, but Hansol must have come from a shoot nearby, found him crashed in Minghao's bed, and elected to take Mingyu's bed to watch over him.

 _Wait--why are you getting ahead of yourself? Maybe Hansol just likes the view from Minghao's side of the hotel. Maybe he likes the lotion Minghao uses at nights. The smell of it clings to everything that touches his skin. Maybe Hansol likes the scent of apricots. Maybe he likes_ Minghao. _  
_

He shakes his head quickly because he's turning into a psychopath.  _No, we're not dealing with Hansol right now._ "Where is he now?"

"I think he went to look for Joshua." A huge yawn splits Wonwoo's face open. Wonwoo yawns like a lion roaring, mouth all wide and eyes squinty. It's cute, but he really does look exhausted.

"Did you even get any sleep?"

"I didn't." Wonwoo deadpans at him. "There wasn't a proper bed to sleep on in Jeonghan-hyung's room."

That explains why the beds were bare in Wonwoo's memory. So _he was up all night with Soonyoung at Seokmin's and Jeonghan's._ A dull throbbing starts at the back of Seungkwan's head. The whole room-switching fiasco is giving rise to another headache. "And these? What are these for?"

Wonwoo's already turning away, his response garbled by a yawn. "Soon's got this crazy idea about a small get-together later tonight. Ask him. He's the one terrorizing the chef."

With that, zombified Wonwoo makes his exit, dragging his feet up the stairs. Wonwoo's parting thoughts are a mix of _sleep now_ and _put a sock in Soonyoung's mouth later._

Seungkwan makes changes to his list as he makes his way to the kitchen, scratching out the vocal team because they're all accounted for (other than Joshua) and adding in 'try to figure out what happened this morning', because he feels like he's missing something crucial. All the puzzle pieces are there, it just take a little jumbling and realigning.

There's no staff in the back kitchen, which probably means Soonyoung has successfully driven them away with his enthusiasm, but there's someone else there, slaving away like he's worked there his whole life.

"Dino-yah! What are you doing here?" Seungkwan cocks his head, wondering why Chan is playing house in a surprisingly bare bones kitchen, pressing down on some dough with a marble rolling pin. There's an assortment of pizza toppings prepared in various bowls--peppers, onions, pineapples, ew, is that pepperoni?--and there's something boiling on the stove. There's a dull orange light and heat emanating from the built-in oven, and more greens by the sink. It looks like a busy kitchen even though he's the only person around. His workplace is clean and efficient, as expected of their maknae. 

"Oh, nothing much. Just being ordered around like I have nothing better to do." Chan's been having his rebellious phase lately. "Mingyu-hyung abandoned me because he got a text from Hao-hyung saying, 'I found a flower patch. Model needed. Come before the lighting changes.' I mean, why can't I be the model? I'm cute!"

"Yes. Yes you are," Seungkwan coos. Chan never fails to make him coo. He moves closer to peer at Chan's handiwork, setting the bag down on the counter next to the stove. He pinches Chan's cheek and the boy whines.

"That looks awesome so far. Is that for the thing Soon's planning later?"

"It's literally just pizza dough." Chan grimaces. "Pizza's easy. You flatten the dough down, spin it a couple of times, put the tomato sauce and the toppings on, cheese included, then pop it in a preheated oven. I used to do it all the time for my younger bro." He crinkles his nose in slight irritation. "As for the plan tonight, it isn't Soonyoung-hyung's idea. It's Seungcheol-hyung's."

"Cheol-hyung?"

"Yeah. He said that we needed to come together as a group seeing as it's the last day of shooting tomorrow. Like bonding and stuff. Board games, food, movies, if we can agree to any."

Something clicks in Seungkwan's head, another gear falling into place and making the rusty clockwork in his brain turn a little faster. Prior to their trip, Seungcheol's been totally out of it, fumbling during practice, picking fights with the other members, but now he seems determined to set things right. He's with Jihoon at some cafe right now trying to smooth over relations between members. He's looking well-rested. He's planning a freaking slumber party.

Something _definitely_ happened between the night before and lunch today.

There's a bitter edge to Chan's thoughts, but he's working hard to impress the other members, like he always has, only grumbling occasionally about the unfairness of it all. He usually isn't so vocal about his frustrations. Seungkwan chalks it up to the fact that, other than Soonyoung, Chan feels closest to him and Hansol because they're the youngest members, and he feels comfortable complaining because he knows Seungkwan understands what he feels to some degree.

Seungkwan feels a wave of sympathy and appreciation for his dongsaeng. _What did we do to deserve such a self-sacrificing little dinosaur?_

"What do you need me to do?"

Chan's eyes widen, and then hums quietly for a moment, eyebrows furrowing. He seems genuinely surprised that Seungkwan's offering another set of hands.

"Maybe grate a lot of cheese into a bowl, hyung? Oh, and I need some hot peppers rolled into pockets. Juni-hyung likes those."

"Yes. OK. I can do that."

Seungkwan decides to help Chan for the rest of the afternoon, gearing up and donning an apron seeing as no one else seems keen on doing so. It kind of sucks, being relegated to meal preparation. Seungkwan never enjoys doing it. Again, that's Mingyu's line of expertise--he's the one that came out of his mother's womb tailor-made to become a house-husband. But Chan seems a little down because he's alone in the kitchen, and he could obviously use the company.

Seungkwan hums a little tune and sets to work, taking out the cheese grate from one of the tool drawers and a bowl from one of the cupboards, peeling the plastic off one of the cheese slabs he found in Wonwoo's groceries. He's careful not to grate a finger into the bowl. He's not a goofball in the kitchen like Seokmin or Soonyoung, he's actually focused and has a longer attention span, but he does utter a joke or two to lighten the atmosphere.

Chan's mood seems to improve with his presence, evident when he takes out his phone and replaces Seungkwan's campy trot singing with some actual music. Soon, Chan's going through a playlist of girl group songs, Red Velvet's Rookie and GFriend's  _tangtangtang,_ Fingertip getting them through the pizza-making process and Girl's Day's I'll Be Yours energizing them through the soup prep. Of course, one pizza isn't enough to feed thirteen hungry boys, so Chan makes four more, and the soup is really just the first step into making an elaborate hot pot recipe. Seungkwan briefly wonders why they didn't just order takeout, but the presence of greens and corn on the pizza and pepper paste on everything makes it clear that the feast to be had is supposed to be distinctly Korean.

Seungkwan wrinkles his nose in distaste as Chan slathers tomato paste all over the next pizza. Gross. Pizzas must have been Soonyoung's idea. He's always turnt for pizza.

"By the way, where's Soonyoung-hyung? I haven't seen him all day."

Chan doesn't look away from his work, drizzling peppers onto the paste. "Out. I think he dragged Joshua-hyung with him as a translator so they could buy some board games."

Seungkwan takes advantage of the opening and asks, casually, "I haven't seen Joshua all day either." He side-eyes Chan, slicing some pork into cubes. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen him since last night. He didn't come back to our room."

Chan hums in thought, and then hikes up an eyebrow. "Really? It's weird that you would say that. Didn't you sleep somewhere else? How would you know he wasn't in your room?"

Seungkwan balks. "I--er--"

"Maybe he was the one who locked himself in my room last night. You know I didn't sleep in my own bed, right, hyung? If anything, I would know he didn't sleep in your room, because I slept there instead." Chan turns to him and huffs. "The one trip we have where I get my own space and I get locked out of it. _Honestly._ There's no justice in this world."

Seungkwan fumbles for an explanation, but then something else catches his attention. "Wait--so, so you slept in our room? And Joshua wasn't there?"

" _Yeees,_ " Chan replies, a little exasperated. He directs his focus back to the pizza-making. "Hyung, drop those pork pieces into the pot before you shred them to bits."

"Oh, uh," Seungkwan gathers the pork together with his cupped hands and drops them into the simmering pot as instructed. "So where did he sleep?"

Chan rolls his eyes. "Weren't you listening? I said _maybe_ he took my room. I mean, who knows?" He waves around the spoon he's been using to spread the tomato paste. "I wasn't checking up on everybody. As soon as Jeonghan-hyung was knocked out cold I pried myself out from his death grip and fled to safety." Chan scowls. "But since my room was locked, I took your room, consequences be damned. I mean, you guys weren't there. And I didn't think you'd mind." Chan's hand freezes in mid-air, bits of pepperoni hanging from his fingers. His head flicks quickly to Seungkwan. "You're not mad, are you? I didn't make a mess."

"I--no, I," Seungkwan blinks back at him. "No. Not at all. But Joshua--"

Seungkwan doesn't get to finish because Mingyu chooses that time to burst through the doors, hair windswept and eyes gleaming. "Hey! Oh--Seungkwanie, what are you doing here? What did I miss? Oh, you got a lot done already." Mingyu's ooh-ing and ahh-ing at all the work Chan has done and Chan isn't even pretending to be bitter anymore--his chest is swelling with pride because Mingyu's showering him with compliments. "Let me help you with the rest."

In Mingyu's head is a replay of his afternoon, playing on constant loop. There's a lot of picturesque scenes in his head, all flowers and sunlight and prancing along the busy streets, but most of them involve Minghao, laughing at him and criticizing his horribly cheesy poses and calling him stupid names.

Seungkwan can't wrap his head around the entire enigma of that missing twelve hours from when he got back to the hotel to when he woke up with Hansol next to him because Mingyu's thoughts are broadcasting so vividly that it's disrupting his thinking process.

"I think we're just about ready to bring these up," Chan decides, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

"Yeah, everyone's gathering upstairs. I think Jihoon-hyung ordered some more food for us, too!" Mingyu's buzzing with energy and it's slightly infectious. "And Soon-hyung bought this new party game called Cranium that I want to try out."

They chatter some more, bouncing off the walls like twin energizer bunnies, and Seungkwan gets so caught up in their excitement that he decides to just forget about the whole thing. Who cares about who slept in which room or where they were when he was asleep? He's problematizing something that probably isn't even that important.

"You know what?" Seungkwan takes of his apron and heaves a heavy sigh, dropping the case like a microphone after a long-winded rap verse. Mingyu and Chan turn to him and he smiles at them helplessly. "Let's just get this over with and have fun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you plot out the room assignments, you'd know what happens next. :)
> 
> I was supposed to post this on Vernon and DK's birthday, but I got busy over the week with school, so that sucks. I'm probably going to read this and make edits along the way because I still. Don't. Think. It's. Enough.
> 
> Sigh.
> 
> And also, I was supposed to finish the whole day leading up to the slumber party but I wanted to get this out quickly because of all the fabulous, heartfelt comments you've all been leaving. I should thank you all for that--I didn't know that this fanfic would get so much love from you guys and I'm really really really thankful for that, so thank you :((( :* 고맙다


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter has some quasi-NSFW bits. I can't stress enough how important it is to warn people when NSFW content shows up.
> 
> Know that you have been warned through this note AND through the tags, and that this is still a work of fiction.
> 
> Anyway, I'm not even going to explain anymore as to why this took so long lol. JUST ENJOY IT and maybe drop a comment if you want to scream at me.

The room they've chosen to desecrate that evening is Jihoon's room, the very same that Jun was trying to put back together earlier in the day. No one could have possibly realized that the apocalypse occurred there--Jun did a very good job of hiding the dent in the wall (that's where the TV set is now) and the gash in the carpet (the coffee table is now blocking it from view).

It's a very strategic choice--Jihoon's room is in the middle of all the seven rooms they're staying in, and holding the slumber party in Jihoon's room meant that Jihoon would be forced to stay.

Seungkwan settles into the all-too-familiar feeling of fond exasperation trying to corral a bunch of rambunctious boys into one tiny space. They let out a collective holler (led by Soonyoung, who else) once Chan enters with a cart full of plates, his pizza and Jihoon's orders included, and it takes a while to set up because half of them are trying to butt in and grab a piece.

The pack of boys are kept at bay by Seungkwan's expert arm-swatting and Jihoon's growls, which frankly resemble a Rottweiler trying to guard his food. Jun doesn't want to test him and backs off with an easy smile, while Soonyoung retreats like a rejected puppy. Instead, Soonyoung drags Chan over to the space between the beds to set up and read over the rules of Cranium with Hansol, who's serving as the manual reader.

Seungkwan's eyes linger on Hansol's expression, all balled up in confusion, his eyebrows going in different directions and his jaw set.  _He looks so stupid,_ Seungkwan thinks, trying to stop himself from gushing because Hansol's face is literally contorted into a weird grimace and yet he still finds it charming.

The side of his face starts to prickle from twin stares coming from the bed. Feeling miffed, his gaze snaps to Hao and Gyu, and they quickly duck their heads and fuss over Minghao’s phone.

He steers clear of Hansol for now and relegates himself to keeping Jihoon from running away by cajoling him into taking one of the lovely tufted sofa chairs.

"This is your room, hyung. You have nowhere to go."

 _I know, and my regret is as deep as the depths of the ocean,_ is his answering thought, accompanied by a low grumble at the back of his throat. Jun is darting him looks, eager but at the same time wary because he has no idea if he and Jihoon are OK. They're OK, Seungkwan thinks, because Jihoon doesn't seem to be sparing the incident last night any thought, seeing as all he's thinking about is how to activate the fire alarm so they could evacuate from his room.

Seokmin is leaning back against the head of one of the beds, grinning widely as he swipes his thumb again and again over Jeonghan's phone screen, with Jeonghan beside him whining pathetically. Seungkwan is still in a state of disbelief over how quickly they repaired their relationship. "Not _that one._ Don't post that one. _Yah,_ none of those look good!" They're trying to push each other off the bed with their elbows and arms, Seokmin laughing and laughing. The inside of their heads are a mirror of their actions, with Jeonghan thinking _God no I look hideous in that_ and Seokmin thinking _selfies in bed? Best idea ever._

Seungkwan’s eyes travel back to the other bed and the same thing is happening with Minghao and Mingyu, except Minghao is quiet and his mouth is pursed in concentration while he focuses on his phone. Mingyu is beside him, and they're lying on their stomachs with their shoulders pressed tight against one another, barefooted and in pajamas. He's craning his giraffe neck close so he could see what Minghao's doing, excitement dancing on his face. From their stream of thoughts, Minghao is using filters on the photos they took that day, VSCO and Snapseed and Foodie from the looks of it, feeling dissatisfied with each new editing step, while Mingyu is in constant awe of Minghao's aesthetic sense.

"Try that one." Mingyu jabs a finger at the phone. "No that sucks." Minghao bats it away. "It makes my skin look radiant." Mingyu pouts, eyelids fluttering at Minghao. "It makes you look like a clown. Try again." Minghao sighs. "That one."

Wonwoo is a dead log on the same bed as Jeonghan and Seokmin, his face smushed against the mattress and his hands pressing a pillow tight against his ears. He's trying to block all the noise the others are making, his thoughts a non-stop, low-pitched whine saying _whyyy?_

Why indeed.

Soonyoung proceeds to break up Hao and Gyu's editing session, crawling onto the bed and squeezing himself in between them like a kid needy for attention, and Jeonghan is now pinning Seokmin on the bed and trying to shove his face into Wonwoo's pillow. Wonwoo makes weak little protests that sound like low tremors through the mattress.

“Seungkwan-ah, where’s Shua and Cheolie?”

He turns to Jihoon with a blank stare. _I need a capable adult in here. Joshua, not Seungcheol. Although Cheol’s been coming around._

A brief flash of an image pops up in Jihoon’s head, with Jihoon sitting in a café quietly speaking with Seungcheol while the older hangs his head and nods so fervently it’s like he’s making a promise.

He looks around the room. Right, that’s ten people accounted for, trying to one-up each other over who can create the most noise (Soonyoung is winning), but there’s still two members missing. One is Joshua, and the other is Seungcheol.

Something heavy settles on Seungkwan’s shoulders, like a huge bird has just roosted on it. Those two have been in and out of his thoughts for the better part of the afternoon, murdering his brain cells as he tries to make sense of their situation. He’s been treating them like two separate mysteries all this time, but the mere mention of them in a sentence together stirs something in his head, like a pebble’s been thrown in and it’s creating ripples on the surface.

A moment passes, and then something snaps into place in his brain, synapses suddenly sharing all the electricity and completing the circuit. He quickly glances at Jihoon, with Junhui sitting in a corner nearby, to Hao and Gyu on the bed, to Soonyoung’s crazy, passing over Chan’s head to Wonwoo’s form, to Jeonghan and Seokmin, back to Chan again, and then to Hansol.

“I’ll go get them.”

Seungkwan doesn’t even wait for a response before he’s out the door and looking left and right along the empty hall. From there, he starts to see everything, from Jeonghan being hauled into one room to Wonwoo padding quietly into another. From Minghao jumping from one room to the next, to Seokmin idling in the dimly lit corridor, debating whether to apologize to Jeonghan.

And it’s all there, falling into place like the footsteps in a Marauder’s Map, all six rooms occupied and one barred from entry. Chan, who was locked out of his room, camped out in his and Joshua’s room with nowhere else to go. Gyu and Hao who nabbed Wonwoo’s and Hansol’s, Jeonghan who crashed at Jun’s and Soonyoung’s, with Seokmin following soon after, and Wonwoo, who was irritated that they’ve been hoodwinked a place to sleep on, pulling Soonyoung into Seokmin’s. Jun, who looked after Jihoon in the boy’s room, and Hansol, who came up later in the night, slipping into Minghao’s room and saw Seungkwan there, passed out.

If they’d reserved seven rooms, where would Seungcheol and Joshua have slept?

Chan’s room, right at the very end. The answer’s been staring at him in the face this whole time.

His feet take him down the hall, slowly, as though he’s in a horror movie waiting for something to jump out.

_No, but, but, OK. They slept in one room. OK. That’s not … That isn’t anything bad or. Or anything._

A few steps from the final door and he stops, paralyzed, eyes widening a fraction. There's the sound of distant noises from Jihoon's room, and then, like the volume to a speaker being turned down,  it ebbs into echoes, his mind warping into a different place--

_Where there's water, and steam, and shallow breaths--_

Seungkwan looks down the dim hall all the way to the lone stairwell at the other end, and there's nothing, no one, but his mind casts out a net of its own accord and it catches on a scene--

_Of dim orange mood lights for private affairs and the scent of activated bath oils, the sharpness of blackberry and sweet succulence of grapefruit--_

He wishes he understood how his powers worked, because he has no idea why he's only seeing these images now, when he's only been a few feet away before, a few rooms over, but they sharpen in focus and push the hallway out of the frame--

_He feels like one person, his hair being tugged from behind, fingers at the back of his head keeping him steady, or steering him, guiding him into position, and at the same time he's another, feeling the ache of having one's knees bear the weight of one's body against warm tiles, water cascading down his back and trickling between the channels of his legs--_

It plays out like a film reel from two different camera lenses, faraway as though the room filled with bickering children is miles away, his hand shooting up to cover his mouth and his face blazing to life with heat because, because--

_That's when he feels the warm weight on his tongue, heavy and full, prying his mouth open, feels the tickling around his nose as he takes and takes more, the unyielding pressure pressing against the back of his throat, stimulating his gag reflex--_

Seungkwan lets out a stuttered breath as his mouth feels hollowed, his throat aching, his body doused with steaming hot water--

_And at the same time his back is against the damp wall, shoulder blades digging for purchase, spine keening, hips lazily bucking forward, broad chest heaving as he's engulfed, holy fuck--_

His knees wobble on the spot, almost buckling, because there's heat brewing like liquid metal between his legs and it's making his brain go hazy--

_He's so aroused, so fucking turned on, his eyes half-shut, his mouth slightly parted, a low, guttural moan bursting from his throat with each thrust--_

Seungkwan's elbow juts out, colliding against the near wall for support, his eyes dropping down to the front of his jeans--

 _He's always wanted a taste, not knowing that it was a possibility, to be on his knees, legs spread out, just to please_ him--

He forces his eyes shut, suppresses a moan against his palm, and bears the warm, heavy weight on his tongue, thick and sturdy and slick, the images assaulting him like a pulsating wave--

_He's never seen the other like this, wet and panting and begging, saliva dribbling down his chin, ass up in the air--_

_He's never seen so much smooth, tanned skin and sharp, defined muscles, his hands skimming over perfectly shaped buttocks and powerful thighs--_

_Shua, oh, Joshua, fuck--_

_Seungcheol, Seungcheol--_

"Seungkwan--"

His elbow slips and his face hits the wall with a smack.

"--what are you doing?"

His arms fumble around to keep himself steady, his back snapping against the surface of the wall like a magnet to a steel sheet. He blushes fiercely as he's met with Hansol's curious gaze, his presence hosing Seungkwan down as if he's some animal being bathed in the open air on a cold December morning.

The scene dissipates. The hall falls back in pieces and there's no steam or heat around anymore, only the stale air of the hotel and the muted fluorescent lights overhead.

Was it all just a daydream? A premonition?

No.

It was _real._ IS _real_.

He realizes that Hansol's just standing there, his eyebrows quizzical, and he's waiting for an answer from Seungkwan, not knowing that Seungkwan's been struck dumb by what he's just seen.

_It's real. It's happening right now._

He stammers out a response, head and mouth at a disconnect. "You--you--what am I doing? What are _you_ doing!?"

Hansol rolls his shoulders and crosses his arms together, fixing him with a suspicious stare.

"Nothing, I was just--I saw you go out and I thought you were going somewhere or getting something. What are you doing here?" Hansol looks over his shoulder to the room that's become what Seungkwan could only describe as a scene of red hot passion.

"I was--I--well, I was going to check up on the rooms to see if ..." he lets out a steadying breath because he's still quite flustered, his gaze dropping because he can't meet Hansol's eyes right now, "... to see if Shua-hyung or Cheol-hyung were in any of the rooms."

Well, he knows where they are, what they're doing. What they're currently doing.  _Who_ they're currently doing. The steamy incident was laser-etched into the back of his eyes, the sheer intensity of it all still rippling through Seungkwan. He's still shaken by what he's seen, still stuck between a place of awe and disbelief and titillation. There's still heat down south, coiling in the pit of his stomach. His knees are but stilts trying to hold him together. His cheeks are aflame. There's no mistaking that he's hot and bothered. And guilty and ashamed because he's gotten a look at something that he has no right to peek into.

He doesn't like that Hansol's here right now, seeing him like this. It's embarrassing--he wants the earth to swallow him. He wants to get some bleach from the nearby broom closet and pour it in his ear in the hopes that it'll melt his brain.

"Oh, Josh-hyung's taking a shower, I think."

Seungkwan's gaze snaps to meet Hansol's.

"And Cheol-hyung's trying to deal with a problem he experienced during one of the shoots."

He tries not to gape in a ludicrous way, because, what? What? The first thought that occurs to him is, does Hansol know? Does he know that the hyungs are inside, buck-naked and soaking wet? Doing ... doing sinful things with their hoo-hahs?

"Can we ..." Seungkwan swallows a lump in his throat, and then shakes his head rapidly, because even that reminds him of the hell of a good time Joshua's having at that moment. "Can we go back? I don't think they're here."

Does he dare ask the question? What would Hansol know anyway? He was the one who said he doesn't meddle in other people's affairs. If he'd known, he must have stumbled upon it somehow, or he'd been offered the information and he's somehow privy to everything that's been going on.

"Yeah, OK. They're starting up the game without us."

This is a brand new development, after all, coming off of the club night. Joshua must have been frisky after that scene in the club. Seungcheol would have been in tatters all week, his balls the bluest blue that ever blued. It would have taken one look, one suggestion, and the both of them could have easily fallen onto each other. It must have happened last night, in Chan's room. Poor, poor Chan, blissfully unaware that his hyungs did the dirty in his sacred space.

He and Hansol go back to the room without speaking to each other, the two of them lost in their own stormy thoughts. Seungkwan is yet again desperate for any sliver of Hansol's thoughts, but his head still impenetrable as ever.

Hansol must have been told somewhere along the way. He was unaccounted for the whole time Seungkwan was asleep. It could have been either of the two. Their level of trust in Hansol is unparalleled. Joshua might have pulled him aside and told him, or Seungcheol must have felt too ashamed or guilty, and Hansol was the first one he saw.

"There you are!" Soonyoung chirps, pulling at Seungkwan's sleeve and guiding him back into the room. Seungkwan, dazed and unresponsive, merely follows. "Since Shua-hyung's taking forever and Seungcheol's off somewhere, let's start the game and hope they die of envy when they walk in because we're having so much fun!"

"I swear it's like somebody poured corn syrup on him," Jihoon bemoans. "He won't stop yammering."

"Screw you. I'm riding this sugar high until I pass out. Then Wonu and I can go to bed and have a normal sleep cycle again."

"The brilliance of your plans astounds me." Wonwoo yawns drily, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. Hansol parks his butt next to him, in the same space as where he was before he followed Seungkwan out of the room. He finds solace in their hyperactive minds, squeezing himself between the loudest head spaces in the room, between Soonyoung and Mingyu, making that four people fighting for dominance on the queen-sized bed. Junhui bodily drags Jihoon's chair with Jihoon on it until it's right next to Seok's and Jeonghan's bed, and that's the team for the first round.

"What does Gnilleps mean?"

"We went over this Chan, it's Spelling spelled backwards."

"Yeah but, how are we supposed to spell anything backwards when we know like, Grade 5 English?"

Mingyu reaches forward and stabs Chan in the rib with a finger. "No, you know Grade 5 English. I on the other hand am pretty good at American thank you."

"You said 'from here to hotel, how go?' to a hotdog vendor this afternoon." Mingyu gives Minghao the most betrayed look Seungkwan's ever seen on him.

But he's still thinking about that shower scene. His head space is still in that part of the hotel. God, it's like seeing a freaking porno movie. A raunchy, gritty porn flick with none of the stupid plotlines, propelled by nothing but pure, unadulterated passion and intimacy. He's never even watched porn, just heard about it from the hyungs, and heard the exaggerated sounds that it could produce on certain nights when one of them is feeling brave and wild in the living room.

Seungkwan grabs a pillow and sits back while the rest get into the swing of the game, stuffing his face into the downy softness, his cheeks still burning.

To see sex realized in his head with Cheol-hyung's and Shua-hyung's faces, not just as a figment of the imagination but as a peek into the present, it kind of makes him want to squeal because ... because, OK. _Don't freaking squeal Seungkwan._ Seungcheol's been hitting on him, has been into Seungkwan and has made the fact known through his dirty thoughts. He's made no effort to hide that Seungkwan does it for him, and Seungkwan's been all shades of flustered flamingo pink because of it. And Joshua, perfect, sophisticated Joshua, who ravishes random boys in clubs with his back muscles and his delicate, spindly explorer hands. Joshua who could switch it up and turn into an incubus with no inhibitions.. From those experiences alone there is no doubting now that, yeah, he's into it. Seungkwan's into it. He's into the allure of masculinity, the feeling of a seductive force drawing you in.

And seeing them both naked, wet, and wanting? Well.

"Seungkwan, it's almost your turn--what are you doing?" Mingyu pulls his pillow away and Seungkwan blushes harder as Mingyu stares. "Are you OK? Did something happen? Oh my God something happened, didn't it?"

His lips tremble a little, and his voice is shaky when he answers.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have midterms soon, so there won't be a new chapter until at least the 17th of March. Sorry for the delay!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better late than dead, I always say.
> 
> Some FondCheol coming your way for the peeps who like soft leader-hyung.

Seungkwan's spine goes rigid the second two familiar minds enter his range, a short moment before one of them, Joshua, slips into the room. He gawks wordlessly as Joshua quietly moseys over to Hansol, who raises an eyebrow at his arrival. Seungkwan can also tell that Seungcheol's waiting outside the hall, balancing on the balls of his feet. It's obvious that they talked about staggering their entrance so that the rest are none-the-wiser about the crazy that just transpired--the absolutely crazy, mind-blowing shower thing--but the two don't even need to hide anything, because the members are so invested in Wonwoo's pained and mega awkward rendition of My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion, some snickering and others groaning, that they don't notice the new addition.

But Seungcheol ducks in soon after, and it's Seokmin who squawks first when he sees him.

"Ah, leader! Leader! Finally! Come save this poor boy!"

Seungcheol hoots like a spooked owl. Soon enough he's being shoved to the front, and Chan hands him another Star Performer card because they want a re-do of that round, which is received by exaggerated protests from the other team. Wonwoo sags in relief nonetheless, slipping back onto the bed like a tranquilized sloth. Soonyoung promptly straddles his back.

"That's not fair,"--"OW, watch it!"--"Wonwoo-hyung's should count!" That's Minghao letting his competitive side out, accidentally elbowing Mingyu's nose in the process.

"That round's counted, don't worry!"

"Jeonghan-hyung, Wonwoo-hyung's in your team," Hansol points out, his eyebrows knit together.

Jeonghan smiles widely. "I know--I just want to hear Cheolie make a fool out of himself."

"I can't understand this," Seungcheol grimaces at the card, "I mean, I can, but I don't ..."

"Ah, this is going to be a disaster." Jihoon smirks behind a cup of cocoa, burrowing further into the plush chair.

"Shua! Shua, help him out!" Junhui's hand flaps against Joshua's shoulder over and over until Joshua's on his feet again, sidling close to Seungcheol. He cracks his knuckles and stretches his neck left and right like he's rearing for a fight, which makes the rest laugh.

Seungkwan's struck dumb by how normal the night's proceeding, despite the graphic content he's seen. _Well, it's because they don't know. If they knew, they'd be freaking out, too._ It's hard not to look at the two older boys without thinking about what Seungcheol's possessive growls sound like or what Joshua looks like kneeling in a context other than praying, but Seungkwan comports himself well enough that he doesn't catch anyone's attention.

He does, however, turn into a statue when Seungcheol plops down on the bed next to him and slings his heavy lumberjack arm around his shoulder, beaming at the rest. That's another thing that Seungkwan found unusual--not once did Seungcheol or Joshua think about the hot and steamy encounter in detail, for which Seungkwan is relieved, but also suspicious. Every now and then the two hyungs would meet gazes across the room, but they don't linger long enough to garner any attention, though in their heads they'd stop to pause and think about the other, considering the other in an entirely different light from how Seungkwan usually saw the two of them interact.

"Seungkwan-ah, you're awfully quiet. Why aren't you joining in?"

Seungkwan tilts his head back and gawks at Seungcheol. He looks happy and content, which, OK, makes a lump form in Seungkwan's throat. It's been a while since he's seen his hyung this relaxed. It's also the first time in weeks that Seungcheol's thoughts aren't going off tangent and thinking of Seungkwan in an obscene way. It's giving Seungkwan mixed feelings.

"I'm just ... I'm still tired from yesterday, I guess." Seungkwan bites his lip as Seungcheol ruffles his hair.

On one hand, he's pleased that Seungcheol's libido has completely subsided, and with that, his stress levels. He could physically feel everyone feeding off of Seungcheol's renewed energy that it makes Seungkwan want to throw his hands around Seungcheol's neck and hug him tight. At the same time however, a small part of him misses it, the unbridled attraction, the casual flirting, the _attention_ directed his way. It makes Seungkwan feel horrible, because he's supposed to be a lot more amenable to the return of their leader, but instead, he's feeling a little jealous of the quick and subtle glances he keeps throwing Joshua.

The energy generated by all the laughter and fun subsides into a more satiated, sedated atmosphere after everyone has their fill of food. A debate on which movie to watch soon ensues, which stops at an impasse between horror-thriller and sappy rom-com. Seokmin doesn't want to put himself through anything spooky because he gets nightmares, and Jeonghan sticks by him because he's the one who's going to have to deal with Seokmin's night terrors later on. Jihoon eggs on the horror film pick because he wants the others to suffer, and Junhui agrees because he wants his blood pumping (and partly because he wants to stay on Jihoon's good side).

It's a six-six vote, and Seungcheol, being the leader and all, is left with the difficult choice of pleasing all of them.

"Why don't we watch both at the same time?"

It ends up being a smart decision, though the rom-com team loses the following rock-paper-scissors game that decides which film would be on TV and which would be on Jihoon's laptop. There's a buzz of activity, which involves some members play-fighting for positions on the bed, various bags of chips being opened, and feet dashing out of the room and back with more pillows and sheets.

After a brief round of the apartment game, it's Chan and Seungkwan who end up being on cleaning duty, tasked with bringing the cart of empty boxes and dirty dishes back to the kitchen. Seungkwan doesn't mind, but he can read on Chan's thoughts that the maknae is a little dejected with the result, but before he can jump in and say that he can do all of it himself, Seungcheol takes the responsibility off of Chan's shoulders, which grants him a lot of street cred and brownie points from the youngest.

"You just enjoy the movie, Channie, Seungkwan and I won't take long."

"But Seungkwan--"

"Nah, it's fine," Seungkwan assures him, but he does side-eye Seungcheol because he senses an ulterior motive to his seemingly selfless act.

They cart off the leftovers through the hall towards the elevator, with Seungcheol smiling the whole time and Seungkwan wondering if he's ever going to forget about the image of Seungcheol's wet and naked body. He's going to have to do something about that soon, because each tiny movement from Seungcheol, whether it be a casual brush of his hand against Seungkwan's or a lazy stretch of an arm over his head the makes the man's shirt hike up, makes Seungkwan's cheeks pink.

Seungcheol doesn't seem to notice, though, but he does dart glances at Seungkwan every now and then, small furtive looks compounded with tiny smiles that ooze fondness and affection. It flusters Seungkwan so much that he trips on his feet one time and bumps the service cart against the side of a doorway the next. He mutters his apologies, but still Seungcheol doesn't say a word. His thoughts are with the whole team, thinking about them winding down and having fun and relaxing, and he looks so satisfied that Seungkwan doesn't have the heart to tell him to stop being so damn soft.

"I'll throw out the empty cartons--you go get started on the dishes." Seungkwan looks away from Seungcheol and huffs a steadying breath. _This hyung is so exhausting, whatever he does._

"How about I help throw the stuff out instead? It's much faster that way. Then we can wash the dishes together."

Seungkwan's evasive tactics fall flat, and he pouts despite himself. Seungcheol hums a tune under his breath as they go back and forth between the cart and the recycling bins, and Seungkwan tries to relax next to him as they work. Seungcheol keeps staring, his gaze a prickling heat against Seungkwan's side, and Seungkwan's just about to burst from embarrassment when they finish. He tries to act nonchalant, giving Seungcheol the cold shoulder, but it doesn't wipe the smile off of Seungcheol's face.

They start scrubbing down the greasy plates and utensils, getting a few sponges and plastic wools sudded up with dishwashing liquid, and Seungcheol's mug is so close to him that he all but explodes.

"HYUNG," he snaps, huffing out in exasperation and leveling him with a fiery eyes. "What's the deal? Do you need something?"

Seungcheol blinks back at him. "Oh, it's nothing." He rinses a sponge under the tap and lathers it with more soap. "It just occurred to me how you've been avoiding me these past few weeks, and now you can't even hold my gaze for more than three seconds." A sly smirk forms on his lips. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you have a crush on me."

Seungkwan sputters like a tea kettle. _The nerve of this guy!_ He promptly shoves Seungcheol off with his soapy hands and Seungcheol barks out a laugh that diffuses the awkward air between them. It's all a joke, he realizes, an ironic joke considering all the stupid instances Seungcheol shamelessly leered at him.

"Jerk." Seungkwan sulks. "Like I was the one mooning over the other for all off two weeks." He turns sharply to the other boy. "And yeah--I noticed all of that! Don't think I'd forget just 'cos you're all ... fixed now." He wildly gestures at Seungcheol's form with a wooden spoon to draw attention to Seungcheol's happier glow. "Or whatever it is that happened to you." Seungkwan fights down the blush again. He doesn't want to allude to knowing anything about Seungcheol and Joshua's ... thing, but he can fake being observant by calling out the change in Seungcheol's behavior.

Seungcheol doesn't seem suspicious, but his expression does dial down into a tighter look, his lips pursing into a thin line. Seungkwan instantly regrets what he said, but then again a call out has been a long time coming.

"About that." Seungcheol ducks his head, looking shamefaced. He wrings his hands together and knits his eyebrows together in a slightly pained expression. "I didn't ... I wasn't in the right state. I don't know how to explain it, but I've been out of sorts lately--"

Seungkwan snorts. "Oh, believe me, it didn't go unnoticed."

"--but I think I'm OK, now. If I did anything untoward ... I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Seungkwan closes his eyes and pretends to not know anything about more than what's been happening in front of him. He's noticed that sometimes people act more on a feeling than a thought, jumping into action before thinking too much on it. It's times like this that catches Seungkwan off-guard, an uncommon instance where he doesn't see something coming. He didn't expect Seungcheol to apologize at all, so now he's stuck feeling guilty again.

"You don't have to apologize or whatever. I wasn't too stressed about it." He shrugs helplessly. Seungcheol couldn't help it at the time. It's not his fault that the world's turned upside down and they've all suddenly got freakish powers. "I mean, yeah, it kind of did make me feel uncomfortable ... but it wasn't all that bad? At least you're feeling better now. And honestly, if all it took was you flirting up a frenzy with all the other members, then I'm sure no one would mind either. If that's your thing, I mean. As long as you didn't cause any harm."

"But see, I did cause harm!" Seungcheol whines, and Seungkwan's head snaps to Seungcheol as the guy turns away from the sink and leans back, his head hanging sullenly. "I let my ... whatever this is, get the better of me, and it caused a lot of problems with the team dynamics. It's like throwing a wrench into a well-oiled machine. I kind of fucked up there, Seungkwan."

"I ..." Seungkwan doesn't anticipate the guilt-ridden thoughts or the sudden dejection from the boy, fueled by self-loathing and a buttload of insecurities. He doesn't know how to reply, and it makes his chest tighten because Seungcheol, he's always been their leader in that he tries to shoulder too many responsibilities and burdens that he forgets he's only one person. Seungkwan's hand darts out instinctively and falls on Seungcheol's shoulder. He feels some of the tension there ebb away, and Seungcheol looks up, eyebrows drawn miserably.

"Hyung, it's OK. Nobody's perfect. You of all people should be allowed to let loose every now and then. You try to take on too much, and you always forget that we're here for you. Soonyoung-hyung's been holding down the fort. Jihoon-hyung didn't cave in once. Everyone's been working hard. Don't look so down now when we've all been sharing the load while you were trying to recover. You should do well to remember that we're pretty good at what we do and we _can_ survive a few weeks without our pillar of a hyung."

Seungcheol looks at him with glassy, saucer-wide eyes, eyelashes fluttering in astonishment. Seungkwan quirks his lips, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "Although, it did get close to being a bloodbath--I'm pretty sure there's been talk of committing fratricide in the dorms, but hey, nobody actually died."

He doesn't hear a response back, but Seungcheol eventually turns back to the dishes, looking like he's about to bust out in manly tears as he scrubs grime off a plate. Seungkwan scrunches his nose and tries not to tease him, feeling his chest swell. Seungcheol's hand comes up and clasps at the space between Seungkwan's neck and shoulder, squeezing tight. Seungkwan doesn't mind that it's damp from all the washing. It's Seungcheol's way of saying how grateful it is. He shifts to the side and bumps Seungcheol back with his arm.

_Don't think for one second that I don't know everything you did for the team, Seungkwan. Hansol's told me everything.  
_

_Hansol?_ Seungkwan hides his face so as not to betray his surprised expression.

_I'll make it up to you, I promise. To all of you. Thank you._

He bites his lip as Seungcheol's warm words threaten to overwhelm him. _Don't you cry now, Seungkwan. Get it together. Don't be a baby._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short because I hope to follow up with another chapter soon, hopefully tomorrow. Please support FondCheol and Seungkwan feeling loved.
> 
> Also, just look up episode 6 of Hi Cam if you want to know what the apartment game is.
> 
> EDIT: NOPE, I can't finish it today TT TT hopefully within a few days. I cleaned this chapter first and now I have a stomachache. :(((((


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank everyone for the amazing responses. You've all been so supportive in the comments, reassuring me and cheering me on. I keep writing and keep wanting to write because people keep telling me to lol, and reading yalls freak out in the comments section honestly makes my day so happy when I get to read them in the mornings.
> 
> This fic now has enough kudos and comments that it's on the first page when you click the little sorty thing. It's making me sob a little. I write verkwan because I want to see more verkwan. I hope that this fic can spark inspiration in others so that they can create more verkwan content. Vernon and Seungkwan are gems and their relationship is #REAL and #GOALSAF , and I hope everyone sees that.
> 
> Now, onto the rest of the story.
> 
> I've been calling the place they've been staying in a hotel when literally, it's not. It's more like an apartment building, or a dormitory. They say so in the first Going Seventeen episodes :))). Which explains why Kwani and Cheol had to do the dishes themselves that night.

_Hansol's been saying things? What did he say?_

Seungkwan looks down at his work and bites his lip. A crease forms between his eyebrows as he tries to think of a reason to bring Hansol up.

He's forgotten to wear an apron--he didn't think he'd actually need it--so his shirt front is splashed with tiny suds and spots of water. His fingers are starting to wrinkle, though it isn't because the load of dishes is heavy. It's just that he prunes easily, his hands smooth and supple. And he's more used to peeling than dealing with calluses, unlike Jihoon or Joshua, who are prone to picking up guitars in their spare time, or Mingyu who does most of the handiwork around the dorm. That's why Seungkwan uses The Saem hand cream, to keep his hands properly hydrated.

_Why are you thinking about your pruny hands? Think of a way to bring up Hansol!_

Seungkwan darts a furtive glance in Seungcheol's direction, just a quick flit of his gaze. Seungcheol looks like he's been relieved of a heavy load, his shoulders pulled back and his stance falling a bit more casual as he does the drying. He's got a silly smile on his face, like a dopey puppy sedated by a big dinner, and the glow is back in his clear black eyes.

Maybe there's no natural way to go about it. But then, he can be curious about the members, right? He's got spots in his memory he's trying to fill. He can ask how Seungcheol's day went, and look for any openings. He can ask about yesterday, what the hip-hop team did when the the rest of them gone out for drinks. Or he can ask about the progress of the shoot. They're about 85% done with everything. All they need now is to finish tomorrow and then practice incessantly until the choreography's been hammered into their muscles.

"How were things yesterday?" he asks. _That's good. A pretty casual way to start._

Seungcheol hums. "Yesterday ... let's see ..." _Well, Joshua and I made out yesterday. It was pretty crazy._

The older's neck starts to go pink and Seungkwan resists the urge to slap his own forehead with a wet palm.

"Yeah, you shot in the streets yesterday, right? With your team? How'd that go?"

"Oh, that," Seungcheol ducks his head sheepishly. "It was OK. Mingyu looked very cool, although there wasn't much lighting to actually see around. His shirt tag got caught in a mesh fence. We had a good laugh." Seungcheol suppresses a grin. "And I think Wonwoo was a little freaked out by the dark streets. You'd think he'd be into that, but we had like two staff members with us so we weren't sure if it was safe."

Seungkwan nods slowly. "And Hansol?"

Seungcheol glances at him, his lips curling. _I figured you'd ask._ Seungkwan tries not to flush and sponges the last dish with steady hands.

"Hansol? Oh, he looked _very_ handsome last night." He winks at Seungkwan, a playful smirk now playing on his lips. "You should have seen him." 

Seungkwan rolls his eyes and puffs his cheeks out. Seungcheol's always been like this when it came to Hansol, constantly teasing and ribbing him. He's probably more excited about the prospect of anything happening between Seungkwan and Hansol than Seungkwan is. Seungkwan's just a mess of trepidation when he thinks about it.

Seungcheol turns to him and his eyes soften. "You know he was worried about you."

If Seungkwan had dog ears, they'd be perking right up.

"Oh?" He shuffles on his feet and braces his hand against the edges of the sink, waiting for the soapy water to completely drain before he moves on to polishing the stainless steel shell clean. "Why--Why would he be worried?" He sucks at feigning indifference. He knows that, and Seungcheol knows that. His body's already turning a bit so he could hear Seungcheol properly. There's a little fond smile gracing Seungcheol's lips, like he just knows how much Seungkwan likes Hansol.

"Oh, come now. You know how Hansol is," Seungcheol takes the last dish back into a cupboard and then turns back to him, his hands on his hips. "He's a helpless baby. He has trouble dressing himself up from time to time, and he gets lost in a crowd easily. But when it's about you ... it's different."

Seungkwan bravely faces him and arches an eyebrow.

"He knows--we, everyone of us know how you worry too much. You know, make a fuss about keeping the members sane and happy." Seungcheol rubs the back of his neck. "I mean, when he told me about everything you've been doing in the sidelines while I was ... while I ..." Seungcheol shakes his head. "I'm surprised you haven't broken down in tears yet."

 _Oh, I have._ Seungkwan shrugs one shoulder. _But Hansol's the only one who gets to see._ He keeps on staring, silently urging Seungcheol to elaborate.

Seungcheol sighs. "He told me to lay off of you. Not his exact words, but something along those lines. I guess he noticed that I've been a little too ..." _Forward?  Leery?_ "overbearing. Which--OK, I was. But, I'm good now." He holds his hands up in front of him. "What he tried to say was, you've been under a lot of stress, and that we, your hyungs, haven't been taking care of you. And he's right." He rubs his nose with a finger. "We've been too focused on ourselves that our dongsaengs have been picking up all the slack. It really put things into perspective."

Seungcheol walks over to the service cart and rolls it away to the side of the kitchen where it's stored. "Hansol's cool. More often than not he entertains a lot of deep thoughts. And most of the time he thinks about you. How you're doing."

In the man's head appears a brief image of Hansol sitting Seungcheol down in some dark corner of a street, their heads together and Hansol talking in his calm, serious tone about Seungkwan. Seungkwan catches phrases like, _he's trying his best,_ and, _I'm worried he's going to get sick._

Seungkwan's stomach flips. His face is warm, and the nerves dotting the length of his arms and fingers feel tingly. Something inexplicable makes his chest fill, his breaths catching in his throat.

"OK." Seungkwan tries to gathers his bearings, tries not to _blush_ so much. "Thank you for telling me."

What he wants to do right now is sit Hansol down for a long talk, to tell him that he shouldn't worry so much. That he's fine, he's used to looking after his disastrous hyungs. It's always been like that, ever since they all gathered for the first time inside a dingy green room a few blocks from Pledis' building. _Hansol doesn't have to look out for me. He's done so much for me already._

Seungcheol walks over to him and places his hand on Seungkwan's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "You're doing great. And even if we don't get to take care of you sometimes, Hansol's there. It's kind of his job to be there for you."

Seungcheol throws the drying towel in his one hand over to an empty hamper and then heads for the door. "We've taken too long. We should go back or we'll miss the rest of the movies." In his head, he wants to tell Seungkwan to work something out with Hansol soon, because the friendship they have, it's special, and it has the unlimited potential to grow into something more.

Seungkwan highly doubts that, but now, more than ever, he's starting to hope that maybe it _can_ be something more.

\--

The night progresses into the 'getting ready for bed but we don't want to turn in for the night yet' phase, and the members break into smaller groups as they wind down. Seungkwan finds that before the movies had even finished, Soonyoung had already carted off a half-conscious Wonwoo into the same room they seized the previous night. This throws the usual room assignments off-kilter once again, and now Seungkwan has to decide whether to occupy a room with Hansol or hide behind the safety of easygoing, risk-free Chan.

There's an awkward pause and a shared look of surprise when he and Seungcheol reach for the same doorknob, the one where Seungkwan knows Joshua is waiting.

"Uh."

"Er."

Seungcheol's hand springs back to his body and he turns his on his heel so fast he almost turns back to facing Seungkwan again, muttering something under his breath as he skitters off towards the other end of the hall. Seungkwan was only really planning to get some toiletries and a change of clothes from the room, but now that he's seen that Seungcheol just assumed that Seungkwan was going to accommodate their secret affair without actually telling Seungkwan that it exists, he now has the hankering to deny it from Seungcheol in a surge of bitter pettiness.

_It's like he already forgot we had a really sappy brotherly moment just a while ago. Wow._

His hopes of having Joshua as a roommate for the night are dashed however when he enters their room and finds Joshua lost in his reverie with the same plans in mind, lying down on the mattresses--two mattresses, because they're singles that have been pushed together to form a bigger, king-sized bed, wearing a fluffy peach robe and a quietly pleased expression. It doesn't take a genius to conclude that Joshua isn't wearing anything underneath, seeing as a sliver of the robe is exposing part of his skinny, bare thigh, and the belts are loose enough that his chest is partly exposed by the splayed out cotton.

_Honestly, they need a lesson on subtlety if this is the best they can do._

"Ready for bed, Shua-hyung?"

Seungkwan's lips curl as Joshua jumps and hastily tries to cover himself, like he's always had a problem with over-exposure.

"S-Seungkwan!"

Seungkwan wants to laugh at Joshua's expense, but he goes immediately still, the smile fading as it occurs to him that Joshua was hoping that the thing he has with Seungcheol would be a thing behind closed doors for a little while longer. That he was hoping to keep his and Seungcheol's affair private. Seungkwan could tell the exact moment when Joshua realizes that it would be impossible, with someone like Seungkwan around. When Joshua's eyes land on Seungkwan, daydreams of _a night of_   _wining and dining and maybe a little cuddling_ vanish completely, to be replaced by, _oh my God Seungkwan can read minds. Seungkwan, he ... Seungcheol ...  
_

It doesn't take long for the ball to drop.

"You know?" Joshua asks quietly, swallowing a lump in his throat and shifting in place awkwardly. _He_ _knows about us?_

A beat passes where Seungkwan is just standing there, frozen in place, his bemused expression turning worried. _He's not ... he's not angry, is he?_ Half of Seungkwan wants to head for the door and run to the hills, but the other half just won't budge. The way Joshua's staring back at him, looking with wide, betrayed eyes and a parted mouth, makes his stomach drop.

Joshua sighs heavily, and Seungkwan could feel a wave of disappointment coming from the other boy. "Yeah, of course you know." _Mind-reading powers. He should have caught on instantly, if he's been with Seungcheol all this time._

Seungkwan blinks fast, shuffling on his feet, uncertain of what to do next. Joshua doesn't say anything, though Seungkwan could more or less grasp what he's feeling. There's a tinge of embarrassment mixed with uneasiness in his head, a cocktail of emotions that takes Seungkwan by surprise, because ... it's Joshua. Joshua never really gets upset. Even when Jeonghan empties his shampoo bottle or when his shirts go missing, only to be found in Junhui's drawers weeks after, he's always been lenient and patient. Even now on the outside, he doesn't seem like he's too bothered about being caught with his proverbial pants down, but just that tiny hint of displeasure already says a lot about what he feels about Seungkwan's powers.

He's not happy about it. About Seungkwan finding out this early.

There's a bit of shame in there, too. He could see Joshua going back to yesterday, in the lobby, when he met with Aron and the guy told him about Seungcheol and the nature of his powers, based on what he's gleaned from Seungkwan's experiences. He doesn't want Seungkwan to think he's taking advantage of Seungcheol. It just happened that way. One thing led to another. Seungcheol was vulnerable. Joshua wanted to help.

But Seungkwan can't help it that he can invade someone's mind so easily. It isn't something he has control over, and he doubts he's going to get a grip on how to stop himself from intruding into other people's private thoughts. Sure, he hasn't made that much effort, but with everything going on, it's difficult for him to set aside some time to work out a solution. _You're just making excuses. You know you can do better._

"Hyung, listen," Seungkwan hurries to explain, making an aborted step forward. His hand reaches out and retracts just as quickly. "I can't--it's not something I can control. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"No, no. It's fine," Joshua smiles a little rueful, forgiving smile that just makes Seungkwan feel even more terrible. "It just ..." he sighs again, wiping a hand down his face. "I hadn't even thought about ..." _the possibility of you finding out. "_ It just takes some getting used to, I guess."

"I'm sorry," he says again, feeling stupid for the first time since gaining his dumb power. _Idiot,_ he thinks, cursing at himself. _Why would anyone be thrilled about your power? Of course they wouldn't. It'd be like telling someone that you know all their secrets. It's disturbing and freaky and just downright wrong.  
_

There's this saying that goes, _it's not polite to eavesdrop._ His mother used to say that back in Jeju, when Seungkwan had this habit of lurking around corners, listening in on other people's conversations. His mother would pull him aside and tell him, in her gentle admonishing tone, that people like their privacy. That's what all this is, isn't it? Seungkwan's been tuning in on people's privates thoughts without their consent or knowledge. He's been using it to his advantage without thinking about how people would feel, how they'd react. He's been selfish all this time and it only occurred to him now that maybe he should stop.

"It's OK." Joshua stands and approaches, wrapping the thick robe around his body. He gives Seungkwan an encouraging, careworn look. "It isn't something you chose to have. We have no way to deal with it at the moment. We're all trying our best."

The sincerity in Joshua's voice and thoughts, the open and quiet understanding, makes Seungkwan wish he was better, that he could be more like Joshua. He hangs his head, stricken by his conscience. No, it's not OK for things to remain the way they are. Joshua's wrong. There is one way to stop this, to keep himself in check and stop him from jumping from one mind to the next without any reservations.

He wishes Joshua a good night, taking a spare pillow, a change of clothes, and his nighttime essentials before he makes for the door. Joshua asks him to stay so they could talk, but he knows that the boy's got other things in mind. Seungcheol's waiting for him. They've got things to talk about as well.

He doesn't go to Chan's room, no matter how much the coward in him wants to. He knocks on Wonwoo's door instead, knowing who's going to be there on the other side.

When the door opens, Hansol blinks at him, wide-eyed. He's got his pajamas bottoms on and a sleep hoodie, his headphones wrapped around his neck.

"Can I sleep here?" Seungkwan looks at him in askance, his voice small and hesitant. Hansol gives him a once over, and then looks at his face, eyes searching. Seungkwan can tell the exact moment when Hansol realizes how upset he is. It's when Hansol's eyebrows furrow in concern and his mouth parts a little.

"Yeah! Yeah, of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part of this chapter should have been in the previous chapter. And the rest of it should have included some pure, unadulterated VerKwan. But I guess I'm saving that for the next chapter x_x
> 
> Actually, most of the chapters in this fic could have been bigger chapters if they were smushed together lol but eh. Maybe I'll number them accordingly once the fic's complete (when will that happen? I have no clue)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I was going to write two chapter again this week. But so much drama happened in my life :( I won't bore you with the details, so let's just jump right in.
> 
> Chapter 17, where the fic reaches 50k words.

"I'm just gonna go wash up," Hansol says, looking lost for a second as he rubs the back of his neck, eyes flitting about the room like he's making sure nothing is out of place. "You can, uh, do whatever, I guess." He ambles toward the wide closet and rummages through his luggage for his bathroom articles, his gaping duffle bag looking more like a disemboweled creature with different brightly colored clothes for innards than an actual bag. Seungkwan watches as Hansol bites on the length his toothbrush, wedges a small pouch between one arm, and then tugs out a change of clothes. He stands and takes out the toothbrush just as quick. "I'll be just a sec." He gives Seungkwan a wide-eyed stare before he disappears into the bathroom.

"Why don't you ever fold anything, Vernonie?" Seungkwan dotes quietly. Should he go over to the closet, spill the contents of Hansol's bag onto the bed and repack everything? He entertains the thought for a moment. Hansol would roll his eyes at him, but secretly he knows the boy would be grateful. But Seungkwan's only got enough energy to lift a toenail, and his shoulders feel weighed down by the huge task he's about to undertake, so instead he moseys towards the bed to lie down while he waits for Hansol to do his nighttime routine.

To stop himself from swirling into a chasm of misery--the dim voices at the back of his head serving as a reminder of what the source of that despair is--he occupies himself by paying particular attention to the room setup.

Wonwoo and Hansol's room contains two beds that are also pushed together to form one larger bed. Seungkwan knows it's because Wonwoo tends to roll in his sleep, needing pillows on his side of the mattress to stop gravity from injuring him, while Hansol is a spread-eagle kind of sleeper, unless somebody else was in the space next to him. Whenever that happens, Hansol's body subconsciously adjusts to the company, though he does shift in his sleep until he finds solid warmth to press his back against.

With the two of them sleeping here, Seungkwan knows that that's how they'll end up eventually. He has no clue why the first thought that popped into his head is the thought of him and Hansol sleeping together.

They've slept on the same bed a lot of times. It's kind of an inevitable thing, living with thirteen boys in the only semi-acceptable dorm their company can afford. He's had Chan sleep half on top of him with his foot shoved against his chin on more than one occasion. Even he and Jihoon have woken up at some point mortified beyond belief at how entangled their limbs have become sometime in the night.

With Hansol, it isn't so different. Sometimes the heating gets cut off in the dorm, and the only way to survive the night without catching a cold from the chills is by huddling together and sharing heat with each other. Seungkwan can't count the amount of times Hansol has woken him up in the dead of night, leaving his perch over by the living room couch, shivering down to his bones, feebly trying to shove his head into the crook of Seungkwan's arm. It's probably only during those times that Seungkwan allows himself a swear or two under his breath, cursing Hansol's cold skin and his stupid unruly hair that tickles his nose and makes him sneeze into the night.

Seungkwan stretches along the length of the bed until his spine pops, his fingers idly reaching as far as they could go. They brush against something solid and plastic, and when Seungkwan inclines his head to peek up towards the headboard, he sees his fingernails running along the curve of Hansol's headphones.

He scooches up the bed, rolling on his elbows and dragging his body along the sheets, until he's near enough to take the headphones and slip them in between his ears. They're warm like earmuffs, which means Hansol must have had them on for quite some time.

 _That's one way to distract me_ , he thinks, rolling on his back again and blindly following their cords with his thumb and index to where Hansol's phone is, partially tucked underneath a fold in the haphazardly thrown duvet.

He takes a shot in the dark and tries to unlock it with Sofia's birthday. His eyebrows inch up when it switches to the home screen without problem. _Piece of cake._ His lips twitch, because his own phone password is his oldest noona's birthday. _  
_

Ignoring whatever hidden treasures lie in Hansol's search history or photo gallery, he goes straight to Hansol's iTunes library.

His music is, as expected, meticulously catalogued: per genre (Western alternative, Swedish house, trap music), per year (Ladies from the 80s, Early 2000 Bubblegum), per mood (I need a muffin, Winding down after practice, I hate the world). Heck, he's even got playlists for certain times of the day. Sunset. Four in the morning. Midnight snacking jams. Nine in the Afternoon (what does that even mean?) It's a lot to go through, but Hansol has micro-managed his tunes in a way that's so organized it's the complete opposite of the physical realm, what with his disregard for the tidiness of his living space.

Something catches his eye, his thumb stopping to hover over the screen. His mouth parts a little as he sees his name.

Boo Seungkwan.

_He has a playlist with my name on it._

Now why would Hansol have a playlist called 'Boo Seungkwan'? His interest piqued, he finds himself pressing play before he can think on it, waiting with bated breath. He jumped right into it too fast, he realizes belatedly, and now there's no going back.

[The first song is, not surprisingly, in English.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8inJtTG_DuU) It starts with guitars strumming along in a languid pace, simple and raw, and Seungkwan is immediately taken to a faraway place full of pops of pastel color and hazy sunlight. When the strings start being plucked high and a man starts singing along to the chords, Seungkwan's breath hitches and his chest begins to compress. The voice is soothing and the words are sung with quiet intimacy, like the man is sitting right next to him, speaking into his ear.

 _It's ... it's beautiful._ He starts focusing on the lyrics, his eyes falling closed, his body seeming to melt right through the soft bed. Although he's got little grasp of the language, he knows what 'close to you' means, and it stirs up a welling of emotions inside that confuses him.

There are words that he's missing, but Seungkwan, through process of deriving meaning from context clues, manages to form a vague image. It's not enough, however. You can't truly know what a whole song wants to try to convey when you can't fully understand the language it uses. But you can draw certain assumptions, based on the style of music, the chords used, the instruments.

What did Hansol have in mind when he put this in Seungkwan's playlist? Is it a message to him? His voice, his headspace put into song? Does he associate the song with Seungkwan or does he associate it with himself when he thinks of Seungkwan? Did he put it there knowing that Seungkwan might listen to it someday, or was it there as a quietly hidden secret?

When the song starts to dwindle, Seungkwan is left feeling less agitated but more puzzled. It's going to cause him some major brain damage if he continues to dig and search for the truth, so he lets the playlist continue on.

He has to physically restrain himself from groaning out loud when Orange Caramel starts playing. _Why? Why this song?_

If anything, ['Aing~'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MplWODPACIM) is a song that Seungkwan associates more with Siyeon than anyone else, seeing as she's the little girl in the video. It's whimsical and upbeat, laced with drama as the key changes into the chorus, and then adds more impact with the additional key change, rounding back into the intro before the second verse yet again starts with the ridiculous aegyo voices and the dissonant emotions of his company noonas.

Why would Hansol put what can only be considered as a twelve year old's candy culture version of a romantic song in a playlist entitled 'Boo Seungkwan'? Is this some kind of joke? Maybe Hansol doesn't see him as someone to be taken seriously. Maybe Hansol sees him as an innocent little teenage girl with hankerings for romance of the storybook kind. Not a young man nearly in his twenties, but a starry-eyed, naive little child. Seungkwan puts on a scowl. If this is Hansol's idea of Seungkwan, a child stuck in a fairytale world where love and longing are static and simplified, then he doesn't get Seungkwan at all. Compared to the first song, this one sounds like a mockery of his feelings.

Put off by the song choice, Seungkwan is just about to take the headphones off when the song up next starts to play. The low bass, the sound phasing in like heavy doors slowly being pushed open, the melancholic guitar and the waterlogged piano sound--there's no mistaking one of his group's saddest songs. It's I Don't Know, except, when Wonwoo starts rapping, a voice is on top of it, a low crooning voice of a female's, and it takes him a second to understand, his eyebrows furrowing and then smoothing out. It's a [mashup](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=REncf6JERBk), or at least, an overlap of their song, with Red Velvet sunbaenim's.

Seungkwan rolls to his side, his eyes pinched as they close. He knows the lyrics to their song like the back of his hand, but with One of These Nights, it's impossibly more haunting, like Hansol's a million light years away and it's tearing him apart. It feels wrong. Hansol's always been next to him, always been by his side from day one, but somehow the mix of the songs makes it sound like there's an unassailable ocean separating them.

He doesn't get it at all.

He wants to break into Hansol's bathroom and demand an explanation, but when he sits up, Hansol comes out of the bathroom half-naked, his head stuck underneath his hoodie. Seungkwan panics and hastily exits from the app, closing Hansol's phone and tucking it away before shoving the boy's headphones off from his head. Hansol's none-the-wiser, staring at him as Seungkwan stares back, blinking innocently.

"Sorry about that. I haven't showered all day."

 _Way to throw a bucket of water on my mood._ "It's fine," Seungkwan says, waving a hand. "I needed to think anyway."

Hansol tilts his head in a slow, understanding nod, and then walks over to the bed, tucking his shins back as his knees hit the edge of the bed. He crawls over to him, his damp hair falling onto his face. Seungkwan adjusts in his seat and casts his eyes down, wondering how the hell he's going to start with his initial plan. He'd momentarily forgotten why he was in Hansol's room in the first place, the playlist taking him to another place entirely, but now that he's face to face with the guy, he's at a loss for words. He tucks his feet underneath him and rubs his pajama-covered legs and thighs, fidgeting awkwardly.

"What's up?" Hansol dips his head down and peers at his face, his eyes searching. "You seemed upset earlier." With his face this close, it feels like Hansol's looking right through him, into his very core. Seungkwan feels his cheeks go warm. Hansol usually asks about what's in someone's mind when he's concerned but doesn't know how to breach the topic properly. He doesn't ask what's wrong, because he knows that sometimes people like to pretend they're fine.

"I was," Seungkwan answers quietly. "I am, still."

"OK." Hansol shifts closer, his voice dipping down. "You want to talk about it?" He lifts a hand, the edge of his fingers brushing lightly against Seungkwan's knee.

Seungkwan chews on his bottom lip. Listening to some of the songs on Hansol's phone distracted him for a while, but he remembers what he needs to do--in the end, the meaning and intent behind the songs Hansol chose did affect his decision somewhat. They bolstered some of the emotions necessary for him to make that leap of trust. If Hansol has been feeling some way for him, and if he's been feeling distant from him lately, then maybe it's because Seungkwan's been pushing him away by keeping this secret from him.

Hansol should know. Seungkwan wants him to know.

"I'm going to tell you something ... weird.' Seungkwan takes a deep breath. "Something that's been going on with me lately that I don't have an explanation for." His gaze darts forward to see Hansol's expression and then quickly drops down again when he sees Hansol's intense gaze. "It's something big, and ... and supernatural? I don't know how to describe it. But don't freak out!" He says abruptly, his eyes flaring desperately and then shuttering, his eyebrows drooping. "And don't laugh because it's a serious matter," he adds, quiet as a mouse.

Hansol doesn't say anything, but his eyebrows draw ever so close together. He looks almost child-like in his curiosity, his face scrunched up in concentration. He jerks his head a few times in a nod that urges Seungkwan to continue.

"Alright. It's not like there's any better way to come out with this, so I'm just gonna say this outright." Seungkwan closes his eyes, draws a steadying breath, and then looks Hansol in the eye.

"I can read minds," he breathes.

The rest spill out like water bursting from a dam.

"I can ... I can hear people's thoughts in my head. It started a few weeks ago, less than a day before ... before that time in the cafe when I--when I asked you what you would do if you found out if someone you know was gay."

Seungkwan's hands are cold, but he keeps talking, filling the silence before it even creeps in."That's how I found out. About Seungcheol-hyung. I read his mind. I ... I didn't do it on purpose. It just happened. I was in the living room and a man, Cheol-hyung, started speaking in my head." Seungkwan pauses, waiting for the ball to drop, but when nothing happens he soldiers on. "At first I thought it was just my imagination, but then his thoughts started matching his actions, and I ... I didn't know what to do. I don't remember why, but I didn't freak out like I should have. I didn't know what was happening. But then, somewhere along the way I stopped caring about how I'm able to do it and just ... started listening in."

Seungkwan doesn't dare look up. Hansol's gone all quiet, and he knows that it's only a matter of time before Hansol starts laughing at him or calling the proper authorities to have him taken away, hauled off to the loony bin.

When the silence stretches far too long, Seungkwan starts to feel agitated and panicked. He finally dares to look up, dreading what he's about to see.

He doesn't expect to find Hansol staring back at him with his mouth agape. It's not the usual exaggerated, comically stunned expression Hansol uses on broadcast. It's a look of blindsided shock. Seungkwan worries for a second that his explanation just went over Hansol's head, partly because he spoke too fast but mostly because he knows Hansol has a tendency to drift off during long, drawn-out speeches, so he opens his mouth to explain further, but Hansol's hand darts forward, grabbing his wrist and making him jump.

"Vernon, what--"

"What am I thinking right now?" Hansol asks him, his eyes determined and round with expectation. Seungkwan feels the world fizzle out behind him, the quiet, bustling world at the back of his head disappearing into a silent vacuum. No more hushed whispers, no more thoughts. Hansol's hand is warm, even though he's just had a bath, and the contact drives all the thoughts away, just as it always did.

"I--funny you should ask that," Seungkwan says sheepishly. "You're the one person I can't read."

Hansol slowly arches an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means what it means." Seungkwan blushes angrily. He nearly takes his hand back, but the pressure of Hansol's fingers against the back of his palm soothes away some of the stress he's been feeling all week. "I can't read you. I can't--there's something in the way. I think. At least, that's what it feels like."

"Like ... like Magneto when Charles tries to read his mind? Like that?"

"What?"

Hansol stares a him pointedly like he just said something dumb, and then shakes his head quickly.

"You know. Like in that movie we watched on the plane. Remember? Magneto wears that helmet and suddenly Charles Xavier can't read his mind anymore. Is it like that?"

Sometimes, Seungkwan can't quite keep up with Hansol's and his quirks. The sudden mention of random movie characters almost derails Seungkwan's train of thought into a ravine, but he manages to remember what it is Hansol's going on about. Ah, yes. That movie.

''I--"Seungkwan grimaces and scratches his head, "--maybe. Yeah. It's like there's a--a wall in there that's stopping me from accessing your head. Why are you--"

"Can you control people?" Hansol asks eagerly this time.

"What? No!" Seungkwan does take his hand away this time, and the thoughts try to rush back in again, but this time, they ripple at the edges like a tide being stopped by a barrier. "Why would you even ask that question?"

Hansol shifts in his seat again, sitting on his haunches and fixing him with an exasperated look. "Because things would be a lot easier if you had the exact same powers as Professor Xavier. We'd know where to go from here. But seeing as you can't control anyone, it means you're not that dangerous."

_Why, why, why does your head work the way it does, Vernonie?_

Seungkwan rattles his head around to clear it. "Wait, wait. So you're not ... you ... you believe me?" Seungkwan deadpans at him.

Hansol frowns, tilting his head to the side and straightening his spine.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I could be lying to you," he says matter-of-factly.

Hansol's eyes narrows suspiciously.

"Are you lying to me?"

A pause. "No?"

He hums contemplatively, regarding Seungkwan with a critical eye.

"Crap. I can't tell. But ..." Hansol sighs. "I guess I trust you."

"You guess you trust me."

"Yes. And honestly," he rolls his eyes, steamrolling over Seungkwan, "you're not creative enough to come up with something as whackjob as telepathy unless it's actually real."

Seungkwan bristles, but then stops to consider those words.

He's not wrong. "OK. Point taken." Seungkwan crosses his arms, his voice shaky as he continues.

"So ... so you believe me?" he asks uncertainly. "If you believe me ... why aren't you freaking out?"

"Oh, believe me, I'm seriously considering shaking you until you fess up and tell me it's all a joke," Hansol says lightly, but then wanes into serious, unsmiling territory. "Is this what you were worried about? That I'd freak out once you told me?"

"Well, no. Yes. No." Seungkwan heaves a sigh, shrinks into a lump. "It's complicated. There's more to it."

Seungkwan gingerly takes a hold of Hansol's hand, picking it up with his fingers. Hansol watches their hands carefully as he does. Seungkwan wonders, at the back of his head, why Hansol never seems to pull away whenever he does that sort of thing. His heart has never pitter-pattered like this before, but somehow holding Hansol's large hand opens up an uncharted territory of emotions.

"Remember when we were out shopping? We ran out from the store because I could tell that one of the girls was a sasaeng. I didn't tell you how I knew. That's how I knew. And when we ran out into the busy crowd, I got overwhelmed." His voice peters out into a mumble. "I can't control my power, Vern. So whenever I'm surrounded by a bunch of people I'm not used to, I kind of ... shut down."

He turns Hansol's hand around, places the back of it on top of his palm. Seungkwan can feel the subtle thumping of Hansol's blood through his veins.

"But whenever we touch, the power goes away," he explains. "Not only do you shut me out, you also stop the thoughts from coming in."

Hansol promptly goes quiet.

"Freaky, huh?"

Hansol blinks rapidly.

"What? No. Don't say that. It's ... it's cool."

"Um, OK?"

Hansol tosses his head. "It is! I mean, it's a cool thing to be able to do ... but ..." Hansol turns over Seungkwan's hand, runs his thumb back and forth between the sinews of the pale green veins barely imperceptible underneath the smooth skin. "Something tells me that you don't want anything to do with this mind-reading mumbo-jumbo."

Seungkwan suppresses a shudder. Hansol needs to stop doing that. "Really? Was it the complete lack of excitement that gave it away?" he says wryly. "Or was it the abject misery?"

Hansol levels him with an impassive look.

"It's driving me insane," Seungkwan admits. "It's like a double-edged sword thing. On one hand, you get to know what people really think of you. On the other hand ..." Seungkwan bites his lip. "On the other hand, you realize you were better off not knowing anything."

Hansol tilts forward, rocks on his knees and then reels back, like he's made an aborted move ... to what? take his shoulders? Loop his arms around him for a hug?

"I've told you a bunch of times. You can't expect people to like you all the time. The best you can do is to do your best, and if people still don't like you, then it's not your fault. It's theirs. For having high standards and stupid expectations."

Seungkwan finds it hard to live like that. Maybe Hansol doesn't understand the way he feels because, well, he's perfect. He doesn't have to worry about his looks or go that extra mile so that people would like him. He's already likeable, and though he doesn't speak much, he reels people in and catches their attention. With Seungkwan, he has to step forward and assert himself. That's how he got into the company, that's how he made it this far, by shouting out his name and forcing himself into the spotlight, to get noticed, to gain acknowledgement.

"I know exactly what's going through your head right now," Hansol tells him. "Stop it."

"You're not the mind-reader here."

"I could write a novel about your insecurities at this point."

Seungkwan puffs his cheeks out defiantly.

Hansol sighs. "Come here," he says, beckoning him close.

Seungkwan scoots over, and it's the easiest thing in the world, closing the gap and letting Hansol hold him.

Hansol wraps his arms around his waist, hands smoothing up his back, and he sinks into Hansol's warmth like melting butter. He presses his face against Hansol's shoulder and tries valiantly to stop the waterworks from coming, because Hansol has just had a bath and he doesn't want to ruin the man's shirt.

"Whatever you heard, whatever anyone's ever thought about you that they never had the guts to say to your face, it doesn't matter." Hansol squeezes him tight. "You're amazing, Boo."

Something changes deep within himself, pushing the organs in his chest aside like an expanding balloon, and even though it feels nice, brilliant even, to have someone brush the thoughts and sweep his inner demons away, he doesn't feel any lighter.

If anything, his heart grows heavy, because Hansol ... he's doing-- _being,_ too much, too fast.

His scent, his warmth, his gentle words, the sigh of his breath against Seungkwan's exposed neck, the rhythm of his steady heartbeat through his weather-beaten hoodie, it's all starting to swallow Seungkwan whole. It's like falling deep into an endless chasm, not knowing where he'll land.

This embrace is different, at least for him.

This signifies the shift in which he sees, _realizes_ that he's in love. He's in love with Hansol--stupid, caring, _perfect_ Hansol Vernon Chwe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two lovebirds still have a lot to discuss, but I'll just have Seungkwan go over the details about Joshua and Seungcheol and Aron next time, because this is all about the reveal of Seungkwan's power.
> 
> Lowkey I wish someone would draw a scene in this chapter. I'd die if this fic had fanart.
> 
> Side note: Seungkwan forgot all about his realization at the club bathroom about his wuv for Hansol, which is why this is a new, new thing for him, being completely sober and all that. 
> 
> Tell me what you think! Leave a comment :))


	18. SPECIAL CHAPTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive~!! No, I haven't abandoned this fic. It's just, so many things happened in real life. Like university things and getting sick and sacrificing some me time. But I'm back!
> 
> I wanted to spice things up a little, so I decided to do something different with this chapter.
> 
> Do you ever think about what this story would look like from the other members' point-of-view?
> 
> Warning: some gratuitous Seungcheol worship coming your way,

Joshua could barely recall having a long talk with Seungcheol the previous night, about supernatural abilities and being monitored by their hyung Aron. The most he can remember, with stark clarity, is the languor, the warm happiness that spread throughout his whole body alongside the glorious post-coital bliss.

Yes, Joshua was almost literally ravished into a coma last night, and he hasn't quite gotten over it yet.

Even after a good night's rest he feels like tenderized meat, all because Seungcheol had the refractory period of a lighting bolt. There's an ache down there that's sure to bother him later when he's doing physical activities involving his lower half, but he can't be fucked, really, can't be bothered, because last night was _amazing_.

 _This damn brute,_ he thinks fondly, his hand absently mapping Seungcheol's bare waist. He doesn't even care that he's plastered against the man like a human-sized Band-aid. He contemplates biting on the man's chest as punishment, but then, Seungcheol might think of it as some kind of morning foreplay or something. Kinky man.

It takes a few minutes of quietly breathing Seungcheol's heady scent in before the man himself stirs, awoken by something like a pre-programmed alarm clock in his head. Seungcheol is a dutiful morning person, everyone knows that, and he goes from sleep to wakefulness within a few seconds, eyes fluttering open and chest heaving in for a long intake of breath. Joshua really digs the way Seungcheol's whole being just ripples with strength, especially during the mornings. He's like a big cat, yawning widely and stretching with languid grace, fists balling and tippy toes reaching as far as they could go. The muscles in Joshua's cheeks pull involuntarily, lips quirking as Seungcheol's pupils focus in and out, until he's smiling back at him with a sleepy grin and he most gorgeous mop of bed hair he's ever laid eyes on.

"Good morning," Seungcheol greets, and Joshua's brain is halfway toward forming a reply before he's being kissed.

Gods, but could Seungcheol kiss. He kisses like he's consuming you, without being sloppy or greedy or domineering, like he's kissing you to make _you_ feel good. It's a long, drawn out suckle of Joshua's upper lip that makes Joshua's head swirl. And the best part of it is, bacteria themselves seem intimidated by Seungcheol, that he doesn't have that stale, morning taste to him. It's like kissing a glossy, ripe peach, all moist and supple to the touch. Warm, sensuous, torturous. Joshua hums into the slow make-out session, body thrumming with giddy excitement.

Seungcheol pulls away and sits up, letting out a short, quiet laugh. Joshua's eyes had fallen closed, and he blinks them back open, wondering, where did the rest of the world go? It was all too fast and too painfully slow at the same time.

"I don't think we have time to take care of that," Seungcheol says, smirking slightly at the bump underneath Joshua's side of the sheets. Joshua flushes a little, wiggling his ass and adjusting himself.

"Right," Joshua replies smushing his face against the rumpled bedding. "We have so much to do today." The 'but I don't want to get up' doesn't need to be said, implied by the way Joshua burrows further into the warmth of the mattress.

Seungcheol hums. "We agreed that, for this to work, we're going to have to behave like we normally would. The company can't know that we're in cahoots, or else they might do something we won't be able to anticipate. That means, no extended morning -after monkey business."

 _God, who even suggested that rule? It's a stupid rule._ Joshua's recollection of the conversation they had last night dawns on him slowly. They agreed that the company has been keeping too many secrets from them, and that them doing so has jeopardized the members' efficiency (mostly Seungcheol's and Seungkwan's ability to function properly during the whole video shooting process). They were going to work together to uncover those secrets as soon as they got back to Korea, all while pretending like they were none-the-wiser.

Joshua's going to keep his gentleman act going, only winding down and letting some of his true self show to the members in private quarters so that they don't get too suspicious, while Seungcheol's going to resume his activities as the caring, attentive leader, falling back into his usual duties, before his abilities had decided to fuck up his priorities.

To keep Seungcheol's power from going haywire, they agreed to keep scheduling some ... private time with one another, as a temporary solution, of course. It actually took some time to smooth out that part of the night-time planning, seeing as the nature of their relationship needed negotiating. They weren't sure how frequently they were supposed to keep Seungcheol's powers in check, so they decided, mutually, and with some hesitation, to curb Seungcheol's wicked streak every night. For now. It was the safest option they had at the moment.  Joshua wanted to suggest that maybe they could also squeeze in something during the day, you know, as a precautionary measure, but he wasn't sure how to breach the topic without making it sound like he was only doing it for the sex. He isn't, for the record. He genuinely wants to help Seungcheol until this whole business-- _his_ whole business, peters out into something more manageable.

Until then, he's just going to have to take it up the ass every night, which, OK, doesn't sound so bad.

_Stop lying to yourself, Joshua._

_It sounds fucking brilliant._

_But of course, you have to consider, it's Seungcheol's power that's turning him into an accidental god in the sheets._

_Don't go worshiping him now, you sleazeball._

It's hard not to, when Seungcheol looks like this, all splayed out on the bed with his hands behind his head, all wide, uninterrupted expanse of skin going from his arms to his chest to his flat stomach to the dip of his waist, disappearing with a thin line of hair down into the modesty of the sheets.

But he has to try.

Because this isn't a permanent arrangement.

"You go take a shower," Joshua smiles sweetly, not letting it on for one second that he's feeling a bit troubled by all of this. "You're going to be late to that trip to the bazaar if you don't haul your ass out of bed."

"I hear you, I hear you," Seungcheol chuckles, giving him one last lingering glance before he slips out of the bed.

Joshua doesn't even pretend that he's averting his gaze as Seungcheol saunters off, his bare ass on display.

\--

"You're wearing _that_?"

Minghao's got his camo hoodie on, the one with the edgy letter patches and the shark teeth sewn onto the hood, worn over a simple black shirt. He has shades that cover half his face, a black mask that covers the other half and renders him unrecognizable by CCTV, and a simple gold chain around his slim neck for that 'I'm decked out but I like to be humble' look. To top it off, dark pants, and boots that were specifically made to crush enemies under their heels. He's stacked head to toe in what could only be summarized as delinquent chic, and it's a clear contrast to what Mingyu's decided to wear.

"Why? What's wrong with it?" Minghao's tone is in confrontation mode, like he's daring Mingyu to say anything punch-worthy. Mingyu notices it, but he has the self-preservation instincts of a Fire Emblem NPC so he challenges the guy anyway.

"We don't match!" He gestures down to his white polo and grey coat ensemble. "I even gelled my hair back for this and you couldn't even bother washing your hair."

"Excuse me, Tom Ford, but we're walking the streets, not L.A. Fashion Week." Minghao's gaze grazes down his form, and it feels like being hit by a thousand shurikens. Minghao sneers--the nerve--and waves him off. Mingyu lets out an affronted scoff.

"You look horrible," Minghao says. "We shall take pics later."

That's bro code for, 'you look handsome! I would like for you to be my model for the day because you're so snap-worthy'.

At least, that's what Mingyu likes to think that meant.

"We should head down--Cheol-hyung's probably seconds away from an aneurysm."

He follows Minghao as he heads for the door, stops in his step as he forgets something-- _oop, don't forget your sunglasses, Gyu--_ turning on his heel and then plucking the pair of shades off from the side table. He almost trips on his feet when he sees Minghao crouched by the doorway, peering out into the hall.

"The hell are you doing?"

"Shh! Come here!" Minghao urgently beckons him with a hand, and Mingyu has to peer over the top of his head to see what it is Minghao's being weird about.

There's two people out in the empty hall, drifting slowly like they're sedated. Seungkwan's leaning heavily against Hansol, with Hansol's arm slung over Seungkwan's shoulder. Hansol looks like he's half-dragging the other boy, but his lips are turned up at the corners and his eyes are keen as they look at the top of Seungkwan's messy hair. Their height difference is becoming more apparent with each day--Seungkwan used to be half an inch taller, back when they were trainees in the green room, but now Hansol's starting to stretch tall enough that he can probably put his chin on Seungkwan's head with the other slouching like that. They're talking in hushed voices, so Mingyu can't quite make out what they're saying. 

Hansol lets out a low snicker the next moment, and his arm draws away, his hand slipping down and his fingers slotting into the spaces between Seungkwan's. The other whines and pouts, but doesn't pull away or let go.

"Oh my God," Minghao whispers in fascination.

"Are they--"

"SHH!"

"I didn't even talk loudly!"

Mingyu looks over Minghao's shoulders again and narrows his eyes at the two boys. It's plain to see that some sort of plot development has occurred, probably during the night. He can't exactly blame Seungkwan for not telling them anything if it only just happened.

"That kind of makes me jealous."

"What?" Mingyu's head snaps down.

"Nothing!" Minghao answers quickly. "Don't ... don't mind it." The sigh that escapes him next confuses the hell out of Mingyu. "Let's just wait for them to pass and then take off. I don't want to see anymore sappy shit today. If they finally got together, that's great, but I'll have to ... I don't know, prepare myself before I roast them for it."

Mingyu steps back and narrows his eyes. "I don't ... understand what's going on."

"That's because you're a pine tree with a terrier for a brain, Mingyu." Minghao shakes his head, but he's still looking out the hall, gaze so deep you could fall in it and never return, like he's trying to memorize every detail he's seeing. Is he weirdly obsessed with these two now? Was he, perhaps, a secret slash enthusiast or something? Mingyu distinctly recalls a time when he discovered that Minghao's search history included a wild adventure through the carat fan art section of the internet. Maybe he's into that.

Oh my God, maybe he's into that.

Minghao is right, he's got the brain capacity of a small dog for a man his size, so he has to step back and not poke Minghao with a stick this time. Funny how when the question of Minghao and his proclivities comes into play, that's the time when he's no longer an NPC, but a crucial, independent character whose decisions actually might affect the course of the game plot. He doesn't want to make the wrong choice, and like, you know, throw the whole game, drive the plot into a terrible scenario that ends up with one of the disappointing bad endings, so he keeps his lips pursed tight and his thoughts to himself.

Now, if only someone were to read his mind, gain some insight into the whole thing and maybe guide him to the right course of action, that would be swell.

\--

"Do you ever feel like you're missing something, Wonwoo? Something ... important?"

Wonwoo doesn't look up from the game he's playing--he's used to Soonyoung and his penchant for paranoia and suspicious spouts of dialogue.

"Hey, man. Listen to me." Soonyoung also has the habit of getting in his face when he's not entertaining his little whims and fancies, so Wonwoo puts the game down for a second and levels Soonyoung with a forbearing look. He's never been afraid to look Soonyoung in the eye until the guy's whole body shudders from discomfort. It's kind of entertaining to see.

Soonyoung breaks eye contact, and the very tips of his lips turn up. All Wonwoo has to do is put on his stoic face and it's like watching a hyperactive hamster do a backflip at the sound of a sudden noise.

They're in the breakfast lounge past the lobby, which sounds fancier than it actually is. It's just a small hole in the wall, an extension that opens into a cozy space of couches and low coffee tables. Wonwoo likes the place a lot--it's quiet most of the time because the members tend to eat out or eat in their rooms, and there's enough natural light filtering in from the windows that he doesn't have to worry about damaging his eyesight any further while playing on his 3DS console or cracking a book open.

Soonyoung looks really bothered about that feeling he's having though, and for some reason Wonwoo doesn't like it when Soonyoung makes that face, all lost and confused and sullen.

Wonwoo relents, snapping his 3DS shut. "I'll bite. What is it that's bothering you?"

Soonyoung perks up.

"I ... I feel like we're out of the loop. Do you feel it too?"

Wonwoo deadpans at him. "I don't know what you mean." The whole team's been rubbing shoulders since forever and they know every dirty secret there is to know about one another, at least, that's what Wonwoo likes to believe. He's not a mind-reader, nor is he a gossip, so he only knows about the things that people tell him. So being out of the loop doesn't seem like a thing to be problematized.

But Soonyoung, he knows, hates being left out. Apart from that, he's a critical thinker. He knows right away when something's up. He might look like a happy-go-lucky dandelion on the outside, but inside he's a machine, a scanner who picks up on the littlest things. And if being observant gains him nothing, he goes into a state that Wonwoo likes to call 'maximum overdrive', where Soonyoung goes 100% instinctual, making decisions using his iron gut. It's why he was chosen to be the performance team leader.

"Can you ... elaborate maybe?" When Soonyoung gets like this, all edgy and anxiety-ridden, Wonwoo doesn't outright dismiss him.

Soonyoung pouts thoughtfully at him, and then grabs his head, literally places his hands on both sides of Wonwoo's face and turns it so that it's facing the lobby. Wonwoo's eyes widen at the contact, and his face heats up a little, but he doesn't quite see what Soonyoung's wants him to see.

"OK ... what am I looking at?" Seungcheol's in the lobby, tapping his foot while talking to Seokmin and Jeonghan. Wonwoo knows they're waiting for Minghao and Mingyu because they're going to the local bazaar. _And I'm supposed to come with them._ Bumzu's also there, which is a surprise, because like Jihoon he dislikes the idea of going outside.

Soonyoung nudges his head to look past them, and Wonwoo squints through his glasses to find Seungkwan and Hansol near the stairwell, bickering and poking at each other, twin smiles on their faces.

Seungkwan and Hansol ... that isn't really anything new. They've been thick as thieves ever since they met. They get teased about it a lot, and Hansol had had enough of it at some point, during December last year. But now they seem like they're alright again. Hansol isn't shying away from the skinship, and Seungkwan isn't employing any boundaries. It's almost like ...

Wonwoo's eyes widen a smidgen when he sees Seungkwan's hand come up to cup Hansol's cheek gently, sees Hansol staring back with a brilliant smile. The gesture is too intimate to ascribe to any sort of friendship. It almost looks like the budding of a relationship. A romantic relationship.

He admits, he's been going along with the rest of the members when it comes to teasing the two, but he never really believed there was anything there, just a solid friendship with trainee hardships and mutual respect at its core. But it looks to be developing into something more.

"You see that? That's what I'm talking about!" Soonyoung urgently whispers.

"How could I have missed that? It's like I've been living under a rock and suddenly ... everything's changed." Wonwoo blinks at the couple. _Couple._ He can't believe he referred to them as that word. _But that's what they look like. A couple._

"You've got your nose buried in a book or a game, you're bound to miss a few things," Soonyoung says wryly. "But that's not the point here. I _know_ when exactly that started. Not the friendship, we all know they became blood brothers when they were like, fifteen." Soonyoung does a few complicated hand gestures, bumping his index fingers together repeatedly. "I remember Hansol meeting with Jonghyun-hyung once, at a café."

Wonwoo sits back and crosses his arms, preparing himself for a wildly convoluted retelling of events.

"I remember because I was getting Chan something easy to eat because he had that stomach virus thing. From the jjampong? Remember that?"

Wonwoo doesn't, but he nods so that Soonyoung would get to the point quicker.

"Anyway, so I was getting a latte for myself, and I distinctly remember seeing the two of them, poring over some notebooks at a far table. I think Hansol was having trouble writing lyrics, and he wanted Jonghyun-hyung's help. That info I got from Minkyung, who got it from Kyulkyung, who got it from Dongho-hyung because Dongho-hyung's their vocal director."

"Stop including information I already know."

"Shh, it's important." Soonyoung shakes his head. "Back to the story. I was heading over to go say hi, but then something happened."

He stops for dramatic effect, and Wonwoo resists the urge to roll his eyes.

"OK. What happened?"

"THEY KISSED." Soonyoung hisses. "I remember Hansol giving him a nod, and then suddenly hyung gave him a smooch right in the pecker."

Wonwoo stares blankly at him.

"Are you sure that you didn't just conjure an image up and imagined the whole thing?"

Soonyoung grabs his arm and shakes him. "I'm 100% positive. They kissed. And something changed after that. It's like ..." Soonyoung's brows furrow. "It's like Hansol changed. I don't know how exactly, but it's like ... his face went vacant all of a sudden, and then he turned back to his notes."

Wonwoo's face shifts, the shadows on his face becoming more pronounced, and it's like Soonyoung reads his mind, because he hastily adds, "But it wasn't anything like, dark or inappropriate or anything. I'm sure Hansol wasn't being taken advantage of. I mean, you know Jonghyun-hyung. He wouldn't hurt a fly." He lets out a long-suffering sigh. "I don't know how to explain what happened, but it's been bugging me for a month. I only just remembered again because we saw Aron-hyung hanging around."

Wonwoo hunches his shoulders. "So what does that have anything to do with Seungkwan and Hansol now? You think it was ... like, it was some kind of test or something? Like Hansol was testing something?"

Soonyoung's eyes glint. "YES. Oh my God, you so get me. Yes, I _think_ that's what happened. I think it's like, Hansol asking Jonghyun out for advice, but not on lyric writing, but on like ... things. Gay things."

"Gay things," Wonwoo repeats flatly.

"You know what I mean!" Soonyoung throws his arms up. "Kids, they need to experiment when it comes to these kinds of things. And it's not like Hansol's sheltered or anything, but he IS a trainee, so he couldn't exactly go out dating or kissing any guy he meets. He probably thought, well, none of my fellow trainees is gay, so maybe I should ask one of the NU'EST hyungs, since they're actually, you know, open about it. At least to the company."

"You've thought about this a lot, haven't you?" Wonwoo observes.

"Yes," Soonyoung whines. "And I haven't told anyone about it, either."

It's not like Soonyoung to be dwelling on an issue for a while, not unless it's something that he feels strongly about, or something that's driving his instinct to investigate. Soonyoung thrives on following his hunches and gut-feelings. Maybe he's onto something here. But why exactly he's investing so much attention towards the issue, Wonwoo fails to comprehend. Soonyoung isn't good at keeping secrets. In fact, he tends to find a sick amount of pleasure from hinting at secrets. The fact that Wonwoo's the first person he's told about this must mean that he's got some sort of personal investment into the matter.

Wonwoo only then just realizes that Soonyoung has crawled close to him on the couch, both of Soonyoung's hands resting on his chest. How they got into this position, Wonwoo can't remember. But he shifts and turns, pulling away from the touch, his face feeling hot. Soonyoung's neck and ears are slightly pink, which means that he must have noticed their position as well.

He looks back toward the lobby and sees Minghao and Mingyu stumbling down the stairs.

"They're here--look, I, uh." He makes to stand, adjusting his blue cap and pushing his glasses up. "I'll talk to you about it later, alright? We're about to leave for lunch."

"Y-yeah. Yes." Soonyoung nods quickly. "I'm going to sleuth around for any clues, see if anyone knows anything about that Jonghyun-hyung incident. You go ask the others if Hansol and Seungkwan are actually ... you know. Together, together."

"OK," Wonwoo clears his throat. Once again, he's sucked into whatever crazy plan Soonyoung's cooked up.

"Plan #45, SoonWoo Detective Agency is a go," Soonyoung mutters excitedly.

Wonwoo doesn't fight the urge to roll his eyes this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing this, I'm writing two articles on K-POP and on university elections for a publication, doing the related literature for a group thesis (there's five of us but two people dropped the class so we're SO shorthanded I could cry) and also preparing for an event at my Math organization. Oh, and preparing for a report in Archaeology class on Tuesday. And a video presentation on Thursday.
> 
> I just wanted to tell you guys. I hope you don't feel too bad that I haven't been updating so much. I really try to, I promise. I'm just that awful at time management, and I'm trying my best to graduate lmfao.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been exactly a month since I last updated this fic :000000
> 
> It's my finals week this week, and I finally had a few days for break before another hellstorm starts, and it surprised me how easy this chapter came to me. I wrote this in just two days. Again, I wish it could be longer, but I realize that I only really write until I'm satisfied, not really caring about the word count per chapter anymore.
> 
> I also noticed that I'm writing about fictional events that were supposed to be taking place a year ago. A year ago! Tomorrow, May 22 is Don't Wanna Cry's first anniversary. I'm shook. It's been a year.
> 
> Please stream Don't Wanna Cry to 100 million! And here you go! Sorry for the looooooong delay. Hopefully I can update more frequently.

A Week Later

 

A whirlwind of activity follows them after their arrival at Incheon. Seungkwan anticipated as much, but this comeback seems to have higher stakes, with a current of unease running through the air as production goes to work building the sets for the music shows, their music video is pieced together, and their performances tightened until they have them on lock.

The company is giving them two days of healing before they have to start the post-production process of unending practice again, and Seungkwan can tell the rest are secretly grateful for the reprieve.

It seems that Soonyoung and Wonwoo are using their free time to spend some quality time together, a development that he would have followed more had he not been stuck by Hansol's side every single time he bumps into them.

Soonyoung gives him these looks, squinting his 10-10 eyes and then beaming at him a few seconds later. Wonwoo rolls his eyes at them whenever they meet, but doesn't say anything, which strikes Seungkwan as odd--wasn't Wonwoo just teasing him before they went to L.A.? Seungkwan had expected a lot of ribbing and leg-pulling when they got back because Hansol had kept sentinel to his side, but so far he's heard none, and it's only adding to the feeling of unease. 

Joshua had to get treatment for his scraped knees the day after they arrived back, and his wounds would have little time to recover before he's kneeling again.

Despite that, Joshua seems positive. "Don't worry, don't worry," Joshua says whenever the members voice their concern, that small smile gracing his lovely cat-like face.

His smile always seems to face Seungcheol's general direction, and Seungkwan swears that Seungcheol's trying not to have a stroke from the stress. It's ... a new development, those two, and he never really had a chance to talk about it with Joshua or Seungcheol, but they seem to be navigating it well and hiding their ... whatever they are, carefully.

Whenever Hansol's out of reach, Seungkwan can read the surface of everyone's thoughts, calm for the most part and hopeful now that the team's finally operating well together, but also buzzing with an undercurrent of nerves about the comeback.

Seungkwan always tries to force himself out of the other members' minds, and he surprises himself when two times out of ten it seems to work. He slips out of his fellow members' heads like water filtering out a sieve. It feels like he's drawing something in and spinning it around his head like a spool, pulling taut at wisps of air with his mind and trying to keep them from snapping back.

_You just gotta practice. It takes effort, and maybe you're not quite doing it right, but you're getting there, slowly._

He's told as much to Joshua, who he sometimes waits on because for some reason he feels guilty, even though he's got nothing to do with the abrasions on Joshua's knees.  _Guilty because I can hear him daydreaming about Seungcheol here and there. I know he's making an effort not to think about him because I'm always around, but I can tell it's getting difficult._

Seungkwan enters the living room where Joshua's watching television, surrounded with snacks that Seungkwan provided because despite his image, Joshua's still a boy who eats like a whale. The older is watching Produce 101 alone, a replay of the April 28 episode, though his head is somewhere else, and a quick brush against his mind tells Seungkwan where that somewhere else is.

"Ugh, I read your mind again," Seungkwan grimaces, shaking his head. "I'm really, really sorry, but really, hyung? All the time?"

Joshua's knocked out of his reverie and he blinks at Seungkwan a few times before flushing in embarrassment. "Goddamn it, Seungkwan."

Seungkwan playfully hits him as he plops down the couch. "This different you is giving me a mental breakdown too, you know. All the swearing and the inappropriate thoughts, it's making my heart weak."

The few days left when they were shooting for the album jacket, Seungkwan's been privy to all of Joshua's little daydreams, and they'd been so graphic sometimes that he's had to run to Hansol just to wipe the image of Seungcheol away from his head. Hansol would ask him why he's so pink-faced and agitated, and Seungkwan would make excuses, tarnishing the integrity of one or several of the crew they were working with instead.

"I covered for you loads of times." Seungkwan makes a pouty face and tears open a bag of Lay's. "There's only so much I could take before Hansol corners me and asks for the full story. And I can't even look at Seungcheol-hyung in the face anymore. You have scary good memory. And frankly, some questionable morals."

"I'm sorry that my sex life bothers you, prince tightwad," Joshua says sarcastically, which he never does with anyone else, and Seungkwan has to reel back for a few seconds before he realizes that Joshua doesn't really mind their situation. He's being painfully gracious about the whole mind-reading thing and it's making Seungkwan feel terrible.

"Really, I'm glad you know," Joshua side-eyes him, winking. If Seungkwan had pearls he'd be clutching them in shock. He wonders if it'll take time to get used to, this Joshua.

Joshua plucks the bag of Lay's from his lap and then selects a few to slip into his mouth. "I mean, who else am I going to discuss my dirty fantasies with?"

A quick flash of Seungcheol spread on a wide bed makes Seungkwan turn green. He shoves Joshua's thigh with his foot.

"Quit it! You two are like my older brothers."

A wicked glint twinkles in Joshua's eye. "Seungkwan. We went over this. You're body's changing. You're going to be feeling things for people and they're going to be dark, dirty things. It's human nature. And also," he pops a chip in his mouth. "You're a new gay. A baby gay, if you will. Because of the timing it's gonna get pretty weird. You'll be popping boners around the other members without meaning to because they'd recklessly lift the front of their shirt to wipe their sweat from their face during practice, or come out of the shower in only a towel, and you'll maybe even get a peek of their junk or their ass."

Seungkwan looks positively scandalized.

"It's fine, don't worry. Boys pop boners all the time. And hey, I totally give you the free pass to whack the chicken over thoughts of Seungcheol, if that's what you're into."

Seungkwan's face is a furnace now, and he sputters when it dawns on him that Joshua's teasing him. The sly smirk on Joshua is a stark contrast to the angelic smile he gives carats. It's unnerving, but also kind of fits him really, really well. Seungkwan hits him lightly.

"You're horrible," Seungkwan whines.

"That's what you get for being a mind reader," Joshua laughs.

"I didn't ask for free porn in my head!"

"Sadly, Seungkwan, that's 80% of what you're going to get from the minds of a bunch of teenage boys sexually-repressed because of company restrictions."

Seungkwan sinks back into the couch and turns to the screen, sulking. Produce 101 has progressed to the cover rounds, and they just so happen to be covering Seventeen. Seungkwan hasn't had a chance to catch up, if only because seeing Dongho on screen reminds him of Seungcheol's past infatuation.

"God, it would have been a nightmare if was on that show," Seungkwan mumbles, his head falling on Joshua's shoulder. "Anyone who's driven by the adrenaline of competition is bound to have crazy, desperate thoughts. I might end up getting murdered. Or murdering someone from hearing that Pick Me song from fifty different heads at once."

Joshua hums quietly, looking thoughtful for a moment, and then shifts in his seat, turning to look down at Seungkwan's mop of hair. "You're really having a rough time, aren't you?"

Seungkwan nods slowly and miserably. "It's not so bad when it's just you in the dorm. But even just being in a room with the performance unit makes me want to slice off a toe."

Joshua snorts, but then decides to be an encouraging hyung by throwing an arm around Seungkwan's shoulder and patting his head. "Any progress on controlling it by sheer willpower?"

Seungkwan shakes his head minutely, stops, and then shrugs. "It's ... complicated. But not impossible. I've done it once or twice. But maybe it was a fluke. Maybe Hansol was nearby, I don't know."

Seungkwan's told Joshua about how he can't read Hansol's mind and how his touch cancels out the ability. It's a topic that they haven't touched on since it was mentioned one night, particularly because they've been busy all week and whenever night time came all Seungkwan wanted to do was to curl up in bed with Hansol, but now that they have some down time he's curious as to what Joshua thinks.

"Seungkwanie, do you like him?"

Seungkwan tenses, already trying to pull away, but Joshua pulls him back and rubs his head.

"Stop stressing over it--it's not like it's a well kept secret."

Seungkwan stares wide-eyes at Joshua, and then sputters like a tea kettle. "My powers--it helps when we're touching--"

Joshua does the equivalent of a Lenny Face, eyes hooded, smile positively mischievous. "You've been shooting heart eyes at him since you met four years ago."

"Yeah, because we're friends--he's my best friend--"

Joshua nods indulgently. "That may be so, but something's changed, hasn't it? I noticed." Joshua mimics the way Seungkwan interacts with Hansol lately by tracing the tips of his fingers lightly along the side of Seungkwan's arm, beaming at him. "You smile at him like this and touch him like he's about to break any second."

Seungkwan's face ripens into a tomato.

"Admit it, Seungkwannie. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Seungkwan sighs. "What are you doing, hyung?"

Joshua smiles immaculately. "I'm trying to coax the gay out of you. Is it working?"

Seungkwan stares hard at Joshua, and then, after a long time, he yowls and then falls back to the side of the couch in a melodramatic fashion. Joshua snickers like an imp who successfully executed a prank.

"What am I going to do?" Seungkwan mumbles against the armrest he's got his face smushed against. "I can't deal with a crush on top of all of the stuff that's happening."

Joshua pats his thigh consolingly. "See, this is what I meant when I said I don't mind you knowing about me and Seungcheol. I could tell you things about him and you could maybe tell me stuff about Hansol? It's not nice to keep things like this bottled up. If you repress your feelings long enough they start leaking out in all sorts of weird and awkward ways. It just makes things worse."

"So you want me to just ... talk about him?"

"Talking about it helps, yeah."

Seungkwan's never harbored a crush, not even when he started being an idol and began seeing all kinds of beautiful people on a daily basis. He came close to it once, during elementary school, and it was this boy back in Jeju who worked in a flower shop. He was older and he was nice to Seungkwan, but Seungkwan pegged that experience as a sort of brotherly affection--it was the attention he liked, not the boy. And ever since then he's never really thought about stuff like liking someone past being their friend or sibling figure.

He knows that Hansol makes him feel all tingly inside. He knows that his heart starts playing like castanets whenever Hansol stares at him for too long and then smiles his gummy Stitch smile. And Hansol constantly touching him, smoothing his hand down his back or knocking shoulders with him or resting his chin on the small dip near the base of his neck, those kind of interactions are making it worse.

He's whipped. He knows he's whipped. He doesn't know how to admit it. But Joshua's giving him a chance. Joshua, who pretty much knows what it's like, to be an idol with restrictions, to be a boy in a society that doesn't accept gay behavior. His hyung understand what the stakes are, why it's necessary to hide. And he knows, probably from experience, what it feels like to bottle things in. He's right. Any longer and Seungkwan might just explode into smoke or peter out and collapse from mental exhaustion.

"I like the way he smells."

Seungkwan peeks out carefully through the clumps of his bangs, watching Joshua's reaction.

Joshua lets out a breath of amusement, but then continues to smile in that encouraging, coaxing way.

"Go on," he says.

Seungkwan looks away and reddens.

"It's like ... the smell of sheets. But like, new sheets, not the kind that's been exposed to all kinds of chemicals ... which is weird, because all of his clothes smell like fabric softener and his skin smells like cologne, citrus, not floral, which is great--you'd think it'd all smell artificial, right, but when it mixes with his warm scent it's like ..."

Joshua's looming over him now, expectant grin on his face. Seungkwan ducks his head.

"It's like fresh air through a summer garden." Seungkwan admits, shrugging helplessly. "He smells really, really good. I want to smell him forever."

It sounds creepy as hell, but hey, it's true. You'd think a boy Hansol's age would stink up the place all the time, and he's a messy person so that's supposed to be double whammy, but somehow Hansol's parents had taught him proper hygiene and how to take care of his body well, so despite everything Hansol's very clean. He smells clean. It's a scent that drifts through Seungkwan's whole olfactory system like an enticing aroma and makes Seungkwan's brain go haywire. Warm and heady and summery.

Seungkwan's surprised to find Joshua's thoughts vibrating with excitement.

"Cheol smells like new leather," Joshua offers, beaming at him. "Not like old, chipping leather, but new leather. I'm not saying he smells like cowhide. He smells manly. And when you combine that with this peach blossom cologne he uses from W.DRESSROOM, he smells like a damn man cake."

Seungkwan's eyes widen in surprise, and then lets out a breathless laugh. "Really?"

Joshua nods enthusiastically, and then buries his head against a throw pillow in embarrassment. Seungkwan looks at him in awe--he's never seen Joshua so giddy, shoulder shaking, bare feet curling at the toes.

Seungkwan starts to smile.

"He uses a different soap, though, doesn't he? Blackberry?"

Joshua looks up, his hair a all over the place. "How did you--"the tiny line between his eyebrows smooth out and his eyes widen. "Oh my God, you can interpret smells through your head?" The implication of Seungkwan being privy to Seungcheol's bath affairs rapidly flashes through Joshua's brain, but Seungkwan doesn't have time to be apologetic because Joshua's pouncing on him, poking his ribs and sides in an unprecedented attack.

"Stop! Stop!" Seungkwan guffaws. "Hyung, stop!"

"You little--you've been perving out on us haven't you?" It's all in good jest, Joshua mind at all, in his head he's endlessly amused and surprised and appalled at Seungkwan that Seungkwan lets the ticklefest go for a while.

They end up in a laughing heap, trying to catch their breaths. Joshua's elbow is poking at his chest and his legs are tangled around Joshua's.

Joshua giggles quietly against his shoulder. It's a warm, chiming sound that makes Seungkwan feel good. "I've never had a friend like this before. Someone to talk about all of this ridiculously gay stuff."

"I--I'm new at this," Seungkwan grins. "So I guess me too."

They unfurl themselves from each other and settle back into sitting positions. The couch is a mess of throw pillows, unopened packs of snacks, and tangled sheets. Seungkwan feels really warm, not the kind of warm you get from being stimulated, but the kind you get from sharing a moment with a friend. It feels good.

"So ... so tell me more about Cheol-hyung," Seungkwan bravely probes.

Another smile blooms on Joshua's face.

"Well," Joshua tucks his feet underneath him. "Seungcheol's kind of a big softie, but don't tell him I told you that ..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you liked this JoshuaxSeungkwan moment :D  
> Please leave a comment! Reading them throughout the day makes me feel super awesome and warm. :D


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